


Kitchen Prep

by KrakenMo (goldenKnife)



Series: Eggbender & Sauce [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Always a girl!Sasuke, Artistic license taken with many details, Background Relationships, F/M, Face blindness, Fluff and Angst, Other, Pining like fools, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Snark, So Many Tropes we had to split the story into multiple parts, Social Media, Unreliable Narrator, Worldbuilding, figure skating AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28622268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenKnife/pseuds/KrakenMo
Summary: Skating Pairs competitively takes Drive! Passion! and above all Trust in your Partner!After months of shattered hopes Sasuke's ready to run away to Orochimaru's ice circus and relative obscurity, but she's willing to try one last test skate. What does she have to lose?After years of slowly sliding down the standings, choking on their own nerves and losing the joy of skating, Touka's ready to Retire, but finding Tobirama a new partner must come first.Can Sasuke & Tobirama work together to make something palatable this year or is this pairing a recipe for disaster?A slice of life slow burn romance with ice skating, magic, cooking, family drama, alternate history, fun with tropes, and lots of self indulgence.
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Sasuke
Series: Eggbender & Sauce [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097375
Comments: 20
Kudos: 47





	1. Enter Tomato Princess

#####  #Twitter Typical Toads

Fresh Nahs @Hellnaws  
Running off to join the circus or coaching change? 2xSilver Medalist Uchiha Sasuke spotted at MLA w/Orochimaru #Unskatable  
|  
Anjo @Matsudaira1551  
What do you mean by this “unskatable” @Hellnaws ? Oro-san is a known Uchiha ally.  
|  
Fresh Nahs @Hellnaws  
Infamous Uchiha temperament+Princess of Pairs standards? No wonder she can’t find a new partner. Play on “undateable” @Matsudaira1551  
|  
Bumpahumpa @Froglegs69  
I heard her cousin Itachi dropped her after only two weeks. Wonder if she broke her face tripping over her ego or by screeching? #Unskatable  
|  
[Reply blocked because User blocked- open it anyway?] x4  
|  
Anjo @Matsudaira1551  
Ask a stupid question, I guess. But I found some new Toads @UchihaHikaku new Blacklist tag for you. 

#####  *  


So, intellectually Sasuke can understand why so many ice skaters choose to train in Vancouver and why Orochimaru set up a coaching outpost there. The city has the low density sprawl and concentric green belts that typify New World city planning outside of the heavily built up port area, and the ocean and mountains both in easy reach provide a lot of recreational conditioning opportunities. She doesn’t know much about the Salish Province in particular, but Canada prides itself on politeness so she expects little outright rudeness while visiting even if her English is imperfect. 

This place doesn’t scratch the itch to _get away_ like Malta, but it’s unlikely that she’ll be staying for long anyway. 

Sasuke’s sick of mountain views; she craves the sea and distant horizons.

The park between where they leave the car behind and the rink is laid out in an unfamiliar pattern of loops, but despite the plants growing up through the cracks in the paving it feels like a protection. One of loops is a pair of bubbling rock fountains with water flowing down a sandy artificial creek bed between them before being lifted and continuing the circle; the path arches over the flowing water twice and Sasuke can see it’s clear and the fountains are clean. If she had a limited budget for landscape, she’d put more of it into the water feature maintenance too. 

It’s the beginning of summer but with the overcast it’s not too hot for her Biker Snorlax coat, and she rubs her fingers over the buttery soft leather to ease the sense of being appraised. There’s not many people in the park around the rink this early, but every last one waves or nods to them, because past a certain point infamy doesn’t fade.

Orochimaru glides forward with confidence not to the main entrance used by the public, but a secondary door set slightly to the side with every expectation of gaining instance access, and of course is granted every courtesy despite not working here. But as the Head of the Malta ice skating endeavor in every way that matters, Oro-san has all the respect that he’s earned where-ever he goes.

They’re not unnoticed here either, of course. Sasuke sees a pair of junior girls scurry off when they check in and Orochimaru leads her to the guest warm up and changing areas that frankly remind her more of a hockey locker room than anything. They have to walk past half of the skaters doing off ice warm ups and the trainers getting early morning coffee to get there, but Orochimaru has never been one for secrets. At least she can do her warm ups in peace while Oro-san goes to wrangle up the unfortunate soul she’s to test skate with today.

Oh, she’s supposed to be positive about this, but Raiga Okiba is just not that impressive on paper or on video. Sasuke will do an honest test skate with him because Oro-san asked, and he’s an old friend of the family, but Oro-san also runs one of the better ice shows and at the rate she’s chewing through prospects, a year off the competitive circuit to have fun with her skating and make some new friends sounds more and more appealing.

Sasuke shoves the feelings of frustration into her warm ups as she moves from the yoga section to the gymnastics and martial arts mash up that makes her teachers in both disciplines despair. She firms her hands from simple open palms to the more complex hand shapes of a stalking mantis as she recalls the last lesson with Izuna and how he’d described the attitude as much as the specific moves. She barely notices when the music she’s conjuring into the air changes from something generic with a lot of cellos to a swing piece as she does the katas in the new style, adding embellishments with each pass until she’s limbered up and her muscles are warm, eager to please.

She pulls her Biker Snorlax coat back on, grabs her skate bag and its cloud of good luck charms; time to head to the ice.

They have an audience. But they’re figure skaters, that’s part and parcel to the business. Sasuke laces up her skates while Oro-san addresses two tall men in similar jackets. The younger one is probably Raiga, but she doesn’t want to assume until they’re introduced.

Another guy sticks his face into her personal space while she’s still lacing up, so she raises an eyebrow.

“Hey Princess, what’s a lovely lady like you doing in a place like this?” the stranger asks. She doesn’t know his voice and when she checks his details (pale straight hair in an uneven bob, purple eyes and unadorned hands) against her memory nothing comes up. And that is an unusual enough combination to stick.

“I’m looking for a jester, are you applying?” Sasuke returns her gaze to her skate laces, there’s no reason to memorize this guy's face if he’s just a random flirt, after all. “So far zero stars.”

“Ask me again if I can get you to laugh, Uchiha! Ouch,” the boy manages to look a little abashed, but not put off, “I suppose it is rude to not introduce myself.”

“Yes,” She agrees, switching eyebrows without looking up at him. It’s a trick she stole from Izuna, but it’s terribly effective.

“Suigetsu Hokuzi, and I am in eternal envy of your eyebrow game.”

“Uchiha Sasuke. Thanks, I trained for a long time.” Orochimaru beckons to her and she inclines her head to Suigetsu, “If you’ll excuse me, the other applicant for the position is ready.”

The look on Suigetsu’s face is a mix of comprehension, horror and glee; Sasuke doesn’t try to understand it.

Oro-san introduces her to Kushimaru Kuriarare and Raiga Okiba- she was right, and she takes a moment to match her memory of the photograph with his real face. Kushimaru is an older blond man and a coach, but his similarities to Inoichi end there: he dismisses her when they’re introduced and eyes her like so much meat when she spins out of her coat to step out onto the ice. If by some miracle this works out, they will not be training with him.

Raiga himself is harder to read. He’s clearly nervous, so she leads him out onto the ice for a few laps so she can adjust to the local ice and he can relax.

The rink they’re using doesn’t have seating large enough to be the one the local national league hockey team uses for their games, but it is marked for hockey, so perhaps a smaller group? Naruto will know. There are more than a few people sitting around, but she ignores them. Well, she waves to Hashirama because he won’t stop until she does, but that’s all.

She watches Raiga moving in her wake and there’s something off. Sasuke casually starts a basic spiral step sequence, paying attention to the movement and lines of his shoulders as he follows along. No, it’s not just his stretched practice clothing deceiving her. After a minute she motions for him to take the lead and shadows him through the warm up Eulers and spins he chooses, taking note of the areas that will need improvement if he wants to be competitive on the top levels. When they return to the side of the rink to decide their first practice dance to test compatibility, Sasuke raises a hand to Oro-san, “Please, a moment.”

Orochimaru nods, a short gesture of his own enough to keep Kushimaru from interfering as Sasuke measures the size and density of Raiga’s arms with her hands, starting by yanking him down so she can reach his shoulders. She ignores his protests and his confused attempts to flirt with equal disdain. 

Oro-san and some of the rink pigeons understand her frown when she grips hands with Raiga and tells him to “Hold.” She can feel the sense of anticipation in the audience even before she applies torque. The skinny arms singles skater squawks and tries to wriggle free instantly, putting up less of a fight than even Obito! 

“Pathetic! I’ve known pommel horses with better grip strength. Did you even train for this? Can you carry a weight bar over your head for a full lap around the rink? DO you even Lift?”

Raiga opens his mouth to protest but she leans most of her weight onto their hands and he nearly slams his head into hers. She dodges with a twist of her shoulders and pulls him into a spin that would end in a simple throw if they’d been on a judo mat but turns into the most awkward two-handed death spiral on ice. She leans back, Raiga manages to get one edge down and she grinds them through the pivot and spins him upright mainly through applied hip action because he doesn’t know how to come out from the horizontal, _why would he?_

He clutches at the boards like he did any of the work to keep his face off the ice.

“Have you actually watched a Pairs routine?” Raiga’s staring like she performed some sort of magic to move him, but it’s perfectly obvious he has shoddy control of his own balance from watching him do spins. He has no idea how the center of balance alters when two bodies are involved. “Pairs requires upper body and core strength from both partners for lifts, and more strength from the guy for throws and catches.”

“I… you’re so small,” he gulps, shock radiating still.

“But mighty.” She glares, “So observe, Raiga-kouhai, this is how you train if you might have to change disciplines.”

Oro-san looks amused, so she starts up the Phoenix music and launches herself into the two thirds of a program that she and Madara built to channel the frustration and rage of the past few months.

Sasuke hasn’t skated singles since she was eight, but there’s a surprising amount of that can be cross-applied in terms of step sequences, jumps and spins. She’d gotten her triple axel solid emough and quad toe-loop landing about half the time because fuck stereotypes, there’s no rule that says you have to be a pre-teen to have monster jumps. She doesn’t need a quad to make this program killer, but it’s Uchiha Branding to go over the top so she has the axel in sequence with an Euler and a triple loop just to show off. It’s not as polished as she’d take to a competition, there’s a section of the spins she wants to change to better match the music, so she tries something new this time. Still not _quite_ right but closer. She comes to the end of what she has with a flourish worthy of Worlds or Four Continents.

A few of the spectators toss out some applause. _Worth it._

Raiga is flabbergasted, having upgraded from his previous stare. So is his goon of an under-coach. Sasuke skates back over but stops short of the boards in a petty spray of ice. “So, did you study any of the standard pair dances or are you just wasting my time, Raiga-kouhai?”

Silence.

Orochimaru eventually breaks it by grabbing Raiga by the back of the neck and forcing him into a bow, “Please forgive me, Uchiha-san, I didn’t realize that this fool was so unprepared for this opportunity or I would not have asked you to come. It is an oversight I intend to correct.”

“I trust that you will, Oro-san,” Sasuke inclines her head to accept his apology, “I welcome your thoughts on the program later.”

“I’d be delighted. Do enjoy the ice for the next few hours, none of Kushimaru’s students will be needing it today.”

The panic in the coach’s face is delicious. Sasuke gives Oro-san a little salute and turns her back on the trio. She has a spin sequence to re-time.

#####  *  


It’s always funny to watch her cousin get outraged, but there’s seldom so much actual flexing. Tobirama pulverizes his crackers inside their packaging rather than eating them as they ‘take a break’ to watch the Malta test skate and it evolves from a hummingbird circling a penguin into a physical inspection of Raiga’s lack of strength training. Touka pats his shoulder in sympathy.

“If he’d just asked he could have trained with us,” Tobirama mutters beside her. It’s a cute idea, but Raiga and his goon friends would have irritated Tobirama and Sakumo into a weight room accident inside a week, with Kotetsu and Izumo documenting the entire thing like a tragicomedy.

Down on the ice, Raiga asks Sasuke if she likes what she sees, as if the touching was anything less than a horse trainer disappointed in what they’ve been offered.

Touka can’t contain the laughter as five-foot-nothing Uchiha Sasuke rag-dolls her would-be partner side to side with nothing but her own arm strength and then judo death spins him to really drive home who’s the boss. After that Touka’s not the only one who sneaks closer to eavesdrop on the coaches when Sasuke starts up the magical music for her ego deflation solo program.

Orochimaru doesn’t allow any comments while Sasuke is skating, and the exchange at the end is the sort of formal that Touka has been prepared for in vast disproportion to her actual experience. Touka knows the ‘kouhai’ title that Sasuke gives Raiga is mainly used by senior students for their juniors but her tone conveys “you useless tit” like a grandmother with a puppy who can’t help pissing on the carpet. Behind her, Tobirama snorts.

“I didn’t realize what was involved, I apologize for wasting your time,” Raiga mumbles to Orochimaru, stiff and flushed with shame. “And Miss Uchiha’s time too,” he adds after a beat of silence.

Orochimaru’s expression promises audits in the Malta camp and Touka knows it couldn’t happen to a more deserving bunch.

Houzuki is either braver or more willing to go down swinging; he looks up from his phone long enough to stick his nose into the conversation, “Dude, you never had a chance with the Tomato Princess. Do you even know who she is?”

“Perhaps you can enlighten your friend while I have a discussion with Kushimaru, Suigetsu?” Orochimaru suggests as he motions for his employee to head toward the staff offices. Kushimaru looks like a man going to his death, and it's possible that his ego won't survive this. Touka certainly hopes so.  


“Aye-aye, Boss-human!” Suigetsu squares up, “So all your wailing over getting crushed by the Madara and Hashirama quad monsters? Princess is the Component Score version of a quad monster and has the medals to show for it.” Touka can’t see Raiga’s face, but Suigetsu’s laugh is cruel, “That’s right, Boss-human’s favorite type of skater. And you just insulted them both. I hope you’re ready to train like a dog to make up for it, you dumbass.”

It looks like the free entertainment is over- Tsunade will be looking for them. But Touka can’t put the image of Uchiha Sasuke skating over to greet her cousin Hashirama out of her mind. 

_ Maybe? _


	2. Seizing Opportunity

#####  **#Rival gossips**

Kotetsu @KOI_Skates  
Uchiha Tomato-Hime has graced us with a beautiful roast and a beautiful program. @Snorlax_skater, can we post a video?  
|  
Uchiha Sasuke @Snorlax_skater  
@Koi_Skates @Knifeshoes22 The program isn’t polished, so make sure you mark it as Unfinished when you post it!  
|  
Suigetsu @Knifeshoes22  
the Roast was professional, were you a chef in a prior life? @Snorlax_skater @KOI_Skates  
|  
Uchiha Sasuke @Snorlax_skater  
@Knifeshoes22 @KOI_Skates It’s disappointing when the preparation is insufficient for a planned dish. Fed stringy shank to the snake.  
|  
Kotetsu @KOI_Skates  
@Snorlax_skater It Burns! You beat us to the video this time, @Knifeshoes22, but we’ll win next time!

#####  *****

Sasuke pretends she can’t hear the voice calling after her and keeps walking. She’s had six different offers to get lunch already, ranging from Hashirama’s enthusiastic offer to share his leftover lasagna to Suigetsu’s flirty burgers and milkshakes to Kushimaru’s transparent attempt to bribe her with sushi. She’s not in the mood to deal with navigating other people’s emotions or apologizing for stomping on Raiga while she refuels.

The woman is not taking the hint. Sasuke picks up the pace. Biker Snorlax is the best coat, but it’s distinctive. Even at a half jog, the woman has no problem keeping pace.

The street traffic thwarts her in the end, forcing her to stop and wait for the light or duck into the corner smoke shop, which is fragrant enough from outside to be unthinkable.

Sasuke dons her neutral smile as the woman slows up, still waving. She’s a good head taller than Sasuke, long medium brown hair falling in loose waves to just past her shoulders, dark brown eyes with a slight fold, stubborn chin, and a broad mouth. Sasuke flicks her eyes down to take in the Team Canada warm up jacket, jeans, and combat boots with a fold-over plaid pattern. _Plaid._ “Touka-san?” she ventures.

“Hey, Sasuke, glad I caught you. Can we talk?”

Sasuke doesn’t recall any reason that Senju Touka would want to talk to her about Okiba Raiga, but who knew the real inner workings of this rink and it’s politics? “I realize this is Okiba’s home rink and I am a guest, but I was invited. The insult was for him and his coach only, not for you or your rink.”

Touka blinks at her and then laughs like a hyena. “Oh, I am not upset about that. Please stomp egos as you see fit, that was a delight!” Sasuke feels the stiffness in her posture ease, and Touka must see it too, because she grins and closes the last bit of distance so they're standing together, pointing out the sign of a Hunan restaurant another block down, “Let me buy you lunch.”

Sasuke relaxes as Touka complains about Singles men thinking they know anything about real difficulty and has to agree. Training with her cousin Madara was good for her mental health after the whole _thing_ with Itachi, but she had to explain that Actually, _Yes,_ the harder lifts deserve to have higher point values than mere quad jumps.

“Mere quads,” Touka laughs as they get their booth and menus, “Oh, please call them that while Hashirama can hear, he’ll turn into a rain cloud. But have you got one, to speak with such authority?” She leans forward, like it’s a secret.

Sasuke holds up the menu to block the view from the window like this is a spy movie, “Only landing clean half the time right now, but it only took a few months to get there from never trying. Compared to a full lasso with fancy dismount? Not even a contest.”

Touka’s expression grows thoughtful, and the server appears to ask if they’ve chosen. Sasuke asks about the spiced beef and decides to get the version with rice noodles, while Touka orders “the usual” with a wink for the waitress. Sasuke sips her water and waits to see what the other woman wants to say.

“Are you quitting pairs, then? Really going solo?”

Sasuke runs her tongue along her teeth and tries not to let the mess of emotions surrounding that question show on her face. She sticks with the facts, “I’m trying to cover all possible outcomes. The Japanese Federation has run through their potential partners for me and indicated I should use my own contacts to build a potential connection in the coming year. Which is as good as saying they don’t expect me to compete for them this season, so good luck. I came to skate with Okiba as a favor to Oro-san, but I didn’t really expect it to work out either.”

“Do you want a new partner?” Touka persists, leaning forward again as if the answer is important.

“A real partner would be fantastic. But I am an Uchiha: we’re infamous for drama and setting things on fire when we don’t get our way, you know. I got lucky with Haku, but the available senior pairs men in Japan are wallflowers and the un-paired men in other places are mostly available because they’re jerks,” Sasuke sighs, running her fingers through the condensed water from her glass. “Even the egregious assholes don’t have a hard time finding partners, which is completely unfair. I am considering running off to join Oro-san’s ice circus for a year just so I won’t have to think about it.”

Touka nods along until Sasuke mentions the ice circus, but she recovers well. “I think you should skate with my cousin.”

Sasuke laughs, because the idea of skating pairs with Senju Hashirama is great and terrible at once. He’s certainly tall enough and could be strong enough: he’s lifted her above his head in giddy celebration before! She enjoys his company for a few hours are a time when they’ve met, but he’s _such_ a solo performer, same as Madara. He and Mito work because neither of them want a performance partner, just someone to cheer them on. “I think Madara-nii would be heartbroken if I stole his rival, even if Hashi agreed to it.”

Touka laughs, because it is funny, but catches herself after a moment, “I meant Tobirama.”

Sasuke pauses. “But he’s _your_ partner-” she looks more intently at Touka, “Is there something wrong with your health, Touka-san?”

“No,” Touka puts her hand down on the table, palm up. “I want to retire for personal reasons, but Tobirama doesn’t. I was going to do another season, sort of ease out; I don’t want to leave my cousin for whoever the Fed shoves at him. But you’re here. How could I not try?" she makes a dismissive gesture when Sasuke opens her mouth to demure, "Oh, don't be modest! I saw what you were doing last season before Haku got hurt, and the year before. Losing to Miles & Olivie by less than two points at Worlds. That's peaking at the right moment. I know we haven't been climbing the podium lately, but Tobi's up to the challenge if you bring it. Can you do a test skate, just to see? Will you be here long enough?”

Sasuke nods slowly, she doesn’t have any memories of Tobirama being less than polite in the years they’ve competed against each other, nor any rumors about asshole behavior to others. And Hashi’s stories were full of snark and wit, even when he was bemoaning his little brother outpacing him in height for several years. “I’m here for a week, so maybe the day after tomorrow? But not too early, I’m not using aggressive tactics to adjust to this timezone.”

“Great, let's say nine?”

“Okay.” Sasuke pulls out her phone and taps in a reminder.

They spend the rest of lunch catching up on mutual friends and talking shop. It's fun.

#####  *****

Touka comes back from lunch in high spirits and Tobirama doesn’t think anything of it until she holds out a bag and says it’s his favorite from Golden Lotus. He knows when he’s being bribed with fish, and he cannot conjure a single reason why she needs to.

“Is there some occasion?” he asks instead.

“I’ll tell you about it at your place.”

Ominous.

He eats a bit of his chili fish head while Touka drives them in her third-hand Volkswagen bug, since Hashirama has an afternoon meeting with the breath-mint people. It’s not so far that he couldn’t have walked if Touka had other plans, but whatever is on her mind must be urgent.

Tobirama waves to the cross hall neighbor as they park. He tries to stay on good terms with Mrs Marsden because she has some powerful leverage on the landlord that makes him respond to complaints in a timely fashion. It’s not enough to end the mouse menace, but she saved Tobirama and Hashirama from a long week with no plumbing a year ago by bending the man’s ear.

Touka can’t seem to settle once they get in, wandering around the public rooms of the apartment like a restless animal while Tobirama puts away his skating bag and laundry. He sits on the big sectional couch with his takeout carton and points at the other half emphatically, “You may as well spit it out. Poetry isn’t your strong suit.”

His cousin sits, but still hesitates.

“Is anyone dying?” he asks.

“No.”

“Serious health problems or injuries?” he asks after chewing and swallowing.

“No.”

“Eloping or other poorly considered life choices?”

Touka opens her mouth, then closes it with click.

“Please tell me you didn’t propose to the pretty Uchiha at lunch,” Tobirama lifts both hands to press to his temples, “I always thought it would be Anija eloping with an Uchiha, You’re supposed to be more sensible!”

“No one is eloping today,” Touka laughs, “It’s a different sort of proposal.”

Tobirama sighs and sinks back into the embrace of the couch, fish abandoned for the moment. “Oh, please don’t keep me in suspense then, Darling Cousin.”

“I asked her to come to practice on Wednesday,” Touka says, “To skate with you.”

Tobirama lifts his eyebrows in question but doesn’t interrupt. Even when Touka pauses in hopes that he will.

“I’ve been thinking about community college. I can’t split my attention and be competitive, but I don’t want to lose all my study skills by waiting until I’m thirty, you know? And Sasuke’s here with no partner, it’s like fate!” Touka stops grasping at the edge of the couch cushion and lifts her hands to gesture, a sure sign of picking up conversational steam, “She’s got the skills and she’s a good height for you. You’re _quiet_ but not a wallflower, so she’s not going to bulldoze you. You get along, there was a time…” Touka’s brow furrows as she tries to remember.

“Junior Worlds Gala, before we made the jump to Seniors. It’s been five years,” Tobirama does _not_ want to talk about that Gala. He leans forward and snags another bite for an excuse not to.

“Yeah, when most everybody else was down with food poisoning. But you stayed out until curfew,” Touka’s curious now, sensing weakness and willing to wait him out.

“You’re a terrible person to be around when you’re sick,” Tobirama points out once his mouth is empty. “Dancing until midnight was vastly preferable to suffering your abuse.”

Touka throws a pillow at him, but not hard. He takes it in knee. “I convinced _the pretty Uchiha_ to test skate with you, show some gratitude!”

“I’m hardly going to call her _princess!_ ” Tobirama protests, “Or award the title of Prettiest to Madara. Please.”

“I think you mean ‘Thank you for finding such a wonderful replacement before you take a break, Touka. That was thoughtful of you.’” Touka uses a gravelly tone more suited for Batman than his actual voice, before switching to something like a manic pixie for her reply, “’Of course Bira! Only the best for my favorite cousin!’”

“No, I think this is a little too convenient. Are you going to arrange a lightning round of test skates if this brilliant serendipity doesn’t play out how you want?”

Touka rolls her eyes, “No, I’ve got another year in the tank, and that’s plenty of time to find someone else if this doesn’t work. But I think it will, you’ll see on Wednesday.”

Tobirama decides there’s no point in borrowing Wednesday’s worry. “Are you staying for dinner?”

“Nah, I’ve got plans. But I’ll see you tomorrow.”

#####  *****

Sasuke spends Tuesday with Naruto and successfully empties her mind of everything but silliness and brain rambles for almost six hours, which is a minor miracle.

Naruto made all the sympathetic noises about Haku’s injury and her partner hunting difficulties when they saw each other at the Olympics in February, and feels no need to repeat them now unless she brings it up. She doesn’t want to update that steaming compost heap with the latest shit on a bright and sunny morning, so it stays unspoken until later, when the setting sun and the restlessness of the jet lag get to her.

He drives her north and stops at a tourist spot that offers a boardwalk and a suspension bridge up in the trees, “So you can feel tall.”

Sasuke doesn’t manage to shove him into the water feature for that, Naruto’s too well balanced for it to be that easy, but she’ll get her revenge. Maybe enchant his practice jersey to play something embarrassing at random intervals. His hockey buddies would enjoy that. It wouldn’t be a long lasting prank without the help of someone with a real enchanting trick, but he would rue his words for a few hours and that’s all she needs.

The view from the bridge does put her in mind of myths like the crane wife and the sparrows returning favors, despite the small crowd of other people disrupting the calm of the forest. The woods are different from back home, subtle differences in the species rather than the unnatural geometries of palm trees and tropical ground cover. It’s comfortable without cloying nostalgia.

A little further down the road they park Naruto’s ridiculous truck, get out the day packs and set out to climb a small mountain using a path called the grouse grind? She’s confused until Naruto explains that it’s Grouse Mountain. She _knows_ Grind. 

It’s much less crowded because the excessive number of stairs is clearly marked. Naruto waves at the cable cars overhead and explains that in the winter the top of the mountain is a cool place to go snowboarding or skiing. In the summer there’s still food and things to look at. Oh, and they have a pair of grizzly bears.

Clearly she has to see the bears.

Naruto refuses to climb in to get a selfie wrestling the bears, which is ridiculous. What else is a hyper healing Trick for if not to live dangerously?

"I'm not a sadist, you're just a coward, Naruto," she teases.

"I don't see you offering to charm them with your music, Sasuke," Naruto fires back.

The argument about the differences between bears and snakes takes them to the halfway point of the climb, where they pause for a drink, core exercise rotation, and stretches.

“You’re smart, you know?” she says as they rise from their plank positions to stretch their legs.

“What do you want?” Naruto asks, suspicious. He backs away before starting a hamstring stretch.

Sasuke laughs, “You were smart to warn me that I didn’t need to do legs this morning, since we were going for a hike. If we were doing this on top of leg day I’d be grumpy.” She catches the loop on the back of her running shoe and pulls her leg back, grunting as the muscles in her thighs and back relax into the stretch and she raises the foot higher until it’s over her head. She breathes through a ten count in that position before swapping sides.

“Grumpy, ha! Your standards are like super low, Sasuke, you gotta raise the bar,” Naruto decides, letting go of his own leg and drawing the other one up under his chin to hold. “If some asshole drags you on a killer hike on leg day, you should be fucking pissed and destroy them, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“I’m way too smart to do that twice, believe it!”


	3. It's a Dance

#####  **#Chaff**

**11:04 pm PDT Sasuke:** Niichan, can you have another handful of good luck charms sent express to the hotel I’m at, room 1308? Three quarters of the tokens on my skating bag popped about an hour ago. I’ve got some backups, but I didn’t expect to lose so many in less than a week. :(  
 **4:08 pm JST Shisui:** Shit. Yeah, I’ll send them right away.  
 **4:48 pm JST Shisui:** Check your bag, Imouto! I bullied Obito into helping but he only opened a portal big enough to shove the charms through.  
 **11:51 pm PDT Sasuke:** That’s a whole lot of blessed Pokemon! Thank you both! <3 <3

#####  *****

Tsunade makes them run through off ice dance routines to improve musicality like there isn’t anything unusual scheduled for nine o’clock. Like everything wasn’t subject to sudden change. A childish part of Tobirama wants to perch on top of the cabinet in the corner of the warm up room and hiss like his mother's cats.

Sasuke shows up a few minutes early with Orochimaru in tow, discussing something in subdued voices. She’s wearing the leather coat with the snorlax on the back again, but she’s traded Monday’s sleek black and red practice gear for dark gray leggings and a short knit dress with a pattern of big round flowers in shades of blue, violet, and gold. _It works for her._ He squashes that thought back to whatever mental box it escaped from.

Orochimaru makes some comment and Sasuke lifts her left leg until her knee is level with her chin and rotates her ankle. That seems to satisfy them both, because when she lowers her leg he hands over the bag and Sasuke tosses her head, sending the spikes of her short hair bouncing as she digs inside.

Tsunade snaps her fingers at Orochimaru from her seat next to the boom box, “Back up to your old tricks, Oro? Luring perfectly good pairs skaters into sin and singles, for shame.” Tobirama recalls that Tsunade and Orochimaru were partners once, before some short-sighted decisions on the part of the skating federation broke them apart and Tsunade was stuck with the detestable toad Jiraiya.

“Good morning to you too Tsunade. I would never limit the choices of my skaters, so long as they are willing to work,” Orochimaru sighs, “Alas, Sasuke is not mine. That idiot didn’t do any prep and so you’re in a position to set a lure of your own.”

Their coach makes a ‘give it to me’ gesture at the room at large, “Oh, this is all Touka’s scheme. But I’ve been bribed into withholding judgement until I see for myself.”

“Don’t mind me, I’m just here to observe,” Orochimaru takes a seat and crosses their legs, the very picture of indolence. No one is fooled at all.

Sasuke joins them in a well worn pair of silver dancing flats and without the coat. Tobirama very firmly doesn’t notice her eyes trailing over him as she steps into the open part of the circle centered around Tsunade. He’s not an idiot like Raiga, he can keep his balance.

“So, how do you want to do this?” Sasuke asks.

Touka raises both hands clasped in a sort of v shape, and gestures to the boombox and the two of them, “So I was thinking we could start with some dancing to break the ice?”

Tobirama should have realized the trap from the set up, but Sasuke just nods. It's fine. He doesn’t need any help to yell at Touka later, he’s perfectly capable. And then the music starts- _Bye Bye Love_ , the quickstep program music from when they were 12? Oh, there will be more than just yelling in his cousin’s future.

But he has to put revenge out of his mind because Sasuke takes his hand and arm and hops right into a confident quickstep that leaves him literally wrong-footed until she does something that overrides Touka’s terrible trolling with _Wipeout_ in full stereo and loving detail to the dual drum sets. She winks at him. He can’t help the laugh.

Tobirama puts the tiny audience out of his mind. Forces himself to shove all the implications for the future onto the back burner. All that he can hold onto is the hand in his, the beat she’s driving into the air with her Trick and the floor with her toes, and the pattern of steps they make between them. It’s hypnotic, watching and being watched as they improvise their way through the dance; a glance to switch direction, the change of the grip of their fingers before a cross-step or a flourish turn. Quickstep is still the very devil to start with but they’re moving _together_ by the second minute of the song and finish strong.

Touka’s turned off the magically silenced boombox by then, a mix of pouting and smug competing for facial real estate.

Tobirama decides not to let his cousin unleash the rest of her demonic playlist. “Something for swing?” he asks Sasuke instead and is gratified when rhythmic bass and guitar start to swirl from the corners of the room, followed by muted horns and finally the piano.

Swing has a lot more possibilities, but the beat is slower and they have time to trade the lead back and forth and whisper. The first lift they try is not as controlled as it might be: Sasuke is lighter than he expects and jumps too hard, but Tobirama is fast enough to correct his balance and his grip, so the landing is controlled if not smooth.

Part of the music stutters for a beat before it rights itself and Tobirama wonders how much concentration Sasuke’s music requires. She falls back into a basic step with a thoughtful expression before naming another lift and promising less crazy rabbit. Their second attempt is much better in both execution and timing. And the music gains another thread, a saxophone with no agenda but to express joy and mastery of melodic improvisation. Now he _has_ to ask: he’s never tried to combine his water manipulation with anything more complicated than walking in the rain.

They finish to light applause from Orochimaru, “Delightful.”

Tsunade taps her bottle against her clipboard, “I think we can move on to specific techniques, if you’re satisfied no one is getting murdered today.”

Sasuke laughs like a cartoon villain, “I make no promises, but rate it unlikely.” Tobirama and Touka both stare at her, which makes her smile widen into something deliberately manic, “What? No one here is fooled by Press Smiles, I’m not going to bother and neither should you.”

It is an invitation, so Tobirama takes it, “If anyone has earned a little murder today, it’s Touka, not me.”

“Don’t throw me under the bus, I’m helping you out,” Touka growls.

“I disagree with your tactics.”

Touka crosses her arms and lifts her chin, ceding the floor back to Tsunade. Sasuke shifts onto the balls of her feet but doesn’t comment. Tsunade calls out a sequence of off-ice exercises for them to do, and they work through them one by one, adjusting grips and step lengths until each exercise meets a shared standard of acceptable.

They get into a silent and confused argument about the starting position and grip for a cartwheel lift that has Tobirama biting his tongue as Orochimaru dryly suggests he just roll with it.

“It’s unbalanced with one hand.”

“Sometimes our lot is to accept the hand we’re given,” Orochimaru says blandly, “and let the wheel of fate roll over us.”

“What?” Tobirama is doubly baffled now.

“Oro-san, you’re not helping!” Sasuke claps her hands to her face in an imitation of The Scream, “English, how we hates it. _Basket_ cartwheel is not the same as Cartwheel _lift_. I'm not the only one confused, right? Which are we doing?”

Tsunade shrugs, unphased, “I’d like to see both now.”

Sasuke runs her hands up into her hair, then seems to remember herself and turns a horrible sweetness on their guest, “Oro-san, I know I asked you to come, but please leave the trolling to me.”

“If you wish it I shall withhold my judgement for the end as well,” Orochimaru offers, leg bouncing with amusement barely present in his silky smooth voice.

“Fabulous.” Sasuke turns her back on both of them and moves into position for the Cartwheel lift, her eye-roll and reversion to The Scream of frustration safely hidden from the audience. Tobirama understands the sentiment and offers her a sympathetic smile.

After they complete both versions of the lifts named after cartwheels without further incident, Tsunade huffs, “Enough. Time for skates. I want to see what you do in the real medium.”

“I can do crowd noises, but I left my supply of judgemental cardboard cutouts on my other continent,” Sasuke says with a completely straight face.

“The rink pigeons will have to do, brat.”

Tobirama isn’t sure if it’s a good or bad sign that Sasuke and Tsunade are already bantering. Tsunade is a good coach so long as you accept her foibles and bad habits. And don’t try to reduce her drinking habit below borderline alcoholism.

He expects Touka to pounce as soon as he pulls his skates out of his bag, but another bag hits the wood next to his. It’s a dark purple and rattles with good luck charms as she drags the zipper pull open. Sasuke acts like there isn’t thirty feet of bench she could have claimed on other walls, but the two duffels act as a small buffer as they set to changing their footwear.

“You don’t have to keep going if you hate it,” she says under her breath, and it takes a moment for the words to register as aimed at him.

“I don’t hate it.” He tugs the laces of his skate smooth and ties it off before switching to the other.

“Reserving your comments for the end, Tobirama-san?”

Tobirama isn’t sure what he can say to express what he’s feeling. Or what he _is_ feeling, exactly. The exercises don’t create the same feeling of connection that the dancing did, lacking the pressure of the beat and the immediacy of improvisation. But he doesn’t hate it. “How does the music work? Do you have to concentrate on it, or does it just play until the song ends on its own?”

A bit of color touches the edges of Sasuke’s cheeks and ears before she answers, “I can set it to just play, but it’s not _disconnected_ from me unless I put it into an object.”

“So the saxophone of happiness?” he smirks into her attempt at calm indifference.

“Is a perfectly valid swing instrument,” the calm melts into a short lived glare as she brings her second skate down on the bench sharply. Then dons a smirk of her own, “Next time we could just suffer Touka-san’s musical choices, if you prefer them so much.”

“I like saxophones,” Tobirama decides. He doesn’t fight the smile tugging at his lips.

#####  *****

Tobirama smiles. It does good things for his face.

Sasuke’s not so shallow that a handsome face is going to turn her decision -otherwise Ryudoin would have been a much stronger contender before he opened his mouth- but that second smile is a good sign. Tobirama is so quiet compared to his brother that Sasuke isn’t sure how to read him.

Starting with dancing wasn’t a bad idea, really, it’s a lot more emotional than what amounts to slowly escalating trust exercises. No noodle arms on this one, but that was to be expected. _No trouble catching me when I was too much rabbit_. It’s not a small consideration. She’s not going to let one bad fall stop her, but she has to admit it’s a more persistent concern than it was six months ago. She breathes on the count and focuses on the present.

“Ready?”

She’s all laced up, there’s just her head to sort. “Yeah.”

Oro-san hands her Biker Snorlax, so she gains no control data for how noticeable she would be to the rink pigeons without her signature coat. She spots a pair of ice-dancers that she only recognizes because their Bahamas jackets are unique in the ice skating world. Is that Sakumo? She doesn’t remember what rink he coaches at, so it might be. That’s certainly Haruno Sakura with her candy pink hair gliding across the ice practicing jump entrances, opposite a brunette in a band tour shirt working on camel spins. Mito’s there too, bright red ponytail unmistakable next to Hashirama and his coach. Dan Kato nods to Oro-san; she doesn’t know where their connection comes from but she knows there is one, Oro-san recommended Kato after Madara and Uncle Minakata had decided that Hashi’s old coach had to go. That set of contracts got torn up along with Zetsu Sable’s reputation. 

Screw it, it doesn’t matter who's watching. It matters what she and Tobirama decide.

It’s kind of funny that Tobirama tries to shorten his steps to match what he thinks her stroke distance is but what little height she does have is mostly leg, so she laughs and speeds away from him with a “Meep meep.” He catches up a few beats later and she catches his hand so they can actually work on getting in sync.

“Do you take requests?” he asks once they’ve established a rhythm that won't trip each other.

“If I know the song well enough. I’m not an infinite radio station.”

“Got anything for that feeling of being surveilled?” He doesn’t need to look at the rink pigeons, which from the sound of it have multiplied to include Raiga and his hooligan friends in the last few minutes.

One obvious English answer to that is _I’ll be Watching You_ , but she’s never really liked that, so she lets _Paparazzi_ flow into _Mystic Eyes_ into _You Wanna Piece of Me_ and back again just to fuck with their audience. It takes more focus to remix lyrical music on the fly and smooth the edges out, so they’re just making a cloverleaf in close hold, trying out different chotaws, swizzles and one walkover for edge changes until Tsunade calls them to order and she has to let the rolling medley of stalker songs trail off.

Touka looks like she wants to say something, but changes her mind when Tobirama asks what they should try next with something like eagerness in his voice.

Tsunade suggests a cartwheel lift with a simple entrance and exit to start. Just like what they did in off ice practice, but with less confusion.

It is simple, but clean and easy, like floating. Sasuke could get used to this.

The twist is her sticking point that she wants to unstick. Just want to fly again and forget crashing. Even if this doesn’t work out, one decent catch isn’t too much to ask, is it? But twists are complicated, she hasn’t tried them in a test skate before and she knows it’s not standard.

Sasuke doesn’t have time to overthink how to ask, because Tsunade calls out “Double twist, no frills,” as soon as they loop back into earshot. Tobirama doesn’t object, so they build up a good bit of speed before they turn together, her hands on his wrists as he catches her waist, she jumps -lutz edge, she notes absently, opposite of her usual preference- he lifts, she pushes and then she's in the air, good angle and one, two, spot the ground and caught (safe), clean press out and hand catch. 

Smiling isn’t mandatory in a test skate but she feels- she feels- argh, too much. _Fuck it._ She brings back the Saxophone of Happiness for an encore. Tobirama will get at least some of it, and she doesn’t actually care if anyone else understands.

If this is how she goes out of pairs, then she’d rather fast forward from the Grand Prix Final -regardless of the disaster with Haku’s fall and busted leg at the end of the free skate- straight to this moment. Her family always supported her skating, but also made her promise that if it ever got to the point where it hurt more than she loved it, she would stop. The last few months have come close. Which was why she was considering the ice circus.

Or Canada, apparently.

Madara is going to laugh if this works out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still know very little about figure skating... but anyway, here's wonderwall.


	4. The Weight of a Choice

Sasuke’s triumphant saxophone riff after the successful twist sets a playful mood to several tries at spins that will need some work to synchronize better, but the side by side triple Salchows are almost perfect despite Sasuke’s sing-song complaints about hating that particular jump. They spend two laps of the rink negotiating on the press lift before Tobirama gives in on the position changes in exchange for a simple dismount. She’s a head shorter than Touka and lighter on his arms, but moves through the changes with a steady calm like they aren’t swirling across the ice fast enough to injure anyone he runs into. 

Overall, Tobirama has no complaints until they come back around and Touka calls, “Hey Sasuke, Sakura doesn’t believe your triple axel is consistent.”

The pink-haired girl is standing at the boards next to Touka, lending credence to the challenge, but Tobirama suspects his cousin’s not-so-subtle influence at work.

Sasuke squeezes his fingers before releasing his hand, “Excuse me a moment.”

“Necessary murder,” he agrees under his breath.

She huffs a laugh and then speeds away, calling out to Hashirama as she passes him and Mito and then launches herself into another damned triple axel like it isn’t one of the hardest elements in ladies singles skating and basically nonexistent in pairs.

After that things get a little disorganized, since Sakura, Mito, and Hashirama all want a word with Sasuke; Tsunade and Orochimaru are arguing about some technicality from at least a decade ago; and the rink pigeons are encroaching to eavesdrop.

Touka catches his arm and he leans in to listen when she whispers, “Remember, nothing is written in stone, I can keep going for another year if you need me to.”

“I haven’t decided.” He frowns at her look. “I haven’t.”

“Sure you haven’t, Tobira.”

He’s not sure what that’s about, and isn’t going to dig into it in the middle of a dozen prying eyes and ears. They’ll have time at dinner to dissect this entire experience.

The Zamboni honks to warn everyone to clear the ice, and eight different people converge and pile out through the same exit in a mess of limbs. He expects the new hand on his arm to be Hashirama, but it’s Sasuke, having escaped the singles skaters for the moment. He’s not sure what to make of her expression, perhaps wistful?

“Thank you... for the joy and the catch,” is all she says after a moment of thought.

There’s some context he’s missing, but it doesn’t take a genius or liar to nod and reply, “My pleasure.” Because it was fun, if a little weird at moments.

“We’ll let you know by Friday,” Touka slides into the conversation with one of her press smiles and his skate guards.

Sasuke lets go of his arm and he feels the loss more keenly than he ought. “Sure. Hashi has my cell if you want to talk before then.” She nods to them and accepts her own skate guards from Suigestu, though she gives him a strange look before addressing him as "Jester." Suigetsu seems delighted by his new title. Then she’s pulling her leather coat over her shoulders like a short but armored cloak, gathering her bag from Orochimaru’s care, and repelling questions like an umbrella as she strides away.

The next hour is a blur of mundane details and far too many people asking his opinion as an excuse to give their own. Touka is quiet but in an aggressive way; Tsunade broadly approves of anyone who can shut Orochimaru up, regardless of their methods; Mito is surprised by Touka’s decision to take a break but points out that World Silver Medalists won’t be breaking down his door for test skates next year. He decides to cut out on his usual weight training session when he sees the manic look in the Koi koi pair’s eyes- he’ll make it up at home. He can picture Sakumo’s advice anyway- that trust is the most important thing and he should go with his gut.

Hashirama is the last to speak, waiting until they’re in the car on the way back to their apartment before he comments, more to himself than to Tobirama, “Sasuke seemed sad on Monday, under the stomping. But today she was better, happier.”

Tobirama turns from his determined examination of the side of the road to look at his brother.

“You could tell, couldn’t you Tobi?” Hashirama smiles, not his selling breath mints smile, but the one that’s all soft eyes and emotionalism. Tobirama is grateful they’re in the car and hugs are not possible or he’d be warding off a real rib-cruncher. “I’m glad you were both able to smile and make each other laugh. And play happy music while you were skating.”

“Yeah, we did,” Tobirama looks back out at the line of trees as they pull away from the traffic light.

Hashi laughs, relieved, “Most people never get to see the Uchiha sense of humor, but they’re really funny if you get to know them. You’ll see.”

“I suspect most people can’t get past the Diva Arsonist facade they cultivate,” Tobirama snarks. He remembers the incident where Madara threatened a man who’d trapped Hashirama in a predatory contract with both fire and lawyers- the fire had been present and flashy as hell, the lawyers merely implied loud enough for maximum effect. Tobirama wasn’t fooled by Madara’s claim of control slippage, because the fire had been too symmetrical and dramatic for that, but it was for Hashi and it worked, so he didn’t say anything.

“You’re right of course, Madara is such a Diva, always shouting.” Hashi pulls them into the supermarket and starts looking for a place to park, “Sasuke’s a firecracker too, just quieter. Like you.”

“I guess we’ll see.” Tobirama checks to make sure he has his wallet before opening his door.

Hashi practically dances into the store.

#####  *****

“You’re free to make your own choices of course, but are you sure about this?”

“Well, I know what I want, but I’m not sure if it’s entirely wise. That’s rather the point of calling older relatives for advice, Auntie.” Sasuke drops back onto the hotel bed with a sigh.

Housekeeping freshened up, so the place smells of lavender and rosemary and like she hasn’t been here at all, which to be fair is mostly true. After getting back from the test skate she took a long hot bath, a quick nap, then spent another hour at the hotel spa getting her hair and nails tended to by experts while she waited for the time zones to catch up to an acceptable time to call anybody. Naka-ba is technically her father’s cousin, but she used to skate competitively and has always been full of good advice. More importantly, Sasuke wouldn’t be waking her from a deep sleep by calling at a bit past five in the morning, or disrupting any morning rush to get ready for practice.

“So you want to, but you think it’s impulsive.” Auntie’s old style stove rattles as she pulls the teapot off the heat before it can do more than start to trill.

“Oh, I know it’s impulsive. Touka-san ran me down on Monday. I started looking at residency requirements that afternoon,” Sasuke lifts one leg above her head, flexing her ankle in small circles to stretch the muscle and tendons, then switches to the side with the tattoo, ignoring the thickness in her voice as she continues, “Touka-san wanted me because I’m good. It’s not her decision, but it felt like when Zabuza-ji talked up Haku before we met, like she wanted it to work and really thought that it would. Not meeting because I’ve got the right last name and some officials told them they had to.”

“Sasuke-chan, you know-”

“I know it’s nobody’s fault, it’s just how it is,” Sasuke interupts, knows it's rude and doesn’t care enough to apologize or stop, “But I had fun today. And not by being polite and doing press smiles, either. I told off Oro-san when he was an ass, and lost control of the music a bit, and was honest about what I’m like... and it was okay. Tobirama-san laughed with me, and poked back, and he’s got a sense of humor. If he’s strong enough to survive as Hashi’s brother then he’ll be able to stand up to me, and I know he can catch me like it’s easy, and… and I want that. Maybe I could find someone else who ticks those boxes if I kept looking for a year, but why should I have to? I already know his brother and his cousin Tenzou-san and Madara-nii knows more of them and I don’t see why I shouldn’t reach for this. If… If he wants to try.”

It’s terrifying to consider holding out her hopes for someone she barely knows to reject, but maybe that’s her coming of age trial. Sasuke’s not sure if she believes in the family stories about magic getting stronger with emotional blows as well as mental discipline, but if so she’s going to come out of this year a one-woman orchestra. With possible late-developing lazer eyeballs.

Sasuke wipes at her eyes, “Am I being stupid, Naka-oba?”

Her auntie’s voice sounds frustrated and fond, “No, I think you’re young and passionate and searching for something better than what’s back here. And when you’re still young and flexible is the best time to try. So if this one doesn’t work out, you try something else until you find something that makes you happy again, Sasuke-chan.”

“Okay.”

“And go get a hug from one of your friends in that city, you clearly need one.”

“Yes, auntie.”

“And eat something, you sound hungry.”

“Yes, auntie, I’ll go do that now.”

“You do that. And let me know how it turns out.”

Sasuke makes her goodbyes and hangs up, then scrolls through her contacts to see who might be free for lunch or an afternoon meet up. She’s debating between two contacts when her phone rings with an unknown number. She sits up and takes a deep breath before she answers it, “Hello? Who is this?”

“Hello? It’s me,” Tobirama’s voice comes through the speaker clearly, “Hashi gave me your number, I was hoping we could talk?”

Well, this is unexpected.

It’s funny how much people give away without realizing the implications. When she mentions that she needs to eat so the call may get choppy as she moves, he suggests that they meet in person for food. And in the next breath offers to make her something at his own apartment. Either he wants to be as kind as possible while saying no, or he wants to actually talk without an audience. She accepts the invitation, gets his address, and yanks open her suitcase to find something to wear that isn’t a hotel robe over pyjamas.

#####  *****

Inviting Sasuke over for lunch to talk was pure impulse, but he doesn’t regret it. Tobirama wants to have an answer going into dinner tonight or it’s going to be an ordeal; for some reason Touka feels that this is a decision worthy of a meeting of both their families and is dragging as many siblings and cousins over to her parents’ place as will fit around the table. As if skating with a different partner for a few years so Touka can attend community college is the equivalent of a political marriage or a corporate merger with a foreign entity. The Uchiha Foundation is influential even outside Japan, but their current director is mainly known for fighting sexual harassment and discrimination in winter sports, which is hardly something he needs to fear.

Sasuke sends a text when she arrives and Tobirama wonders how she’s getting around- the apartment he shares with his older brother is just a block from a bus line, but the schedule is not the best, especially during heavy traffic hours. He winces and hopes she didn’t spring for a taxi around lunchtime either. The dark town car idling in the parking lot when he emerges answers that question. Sasuke waves at the driver when she spots him approaching and the car pulls out. “Oro-san is so very sorry and much busier at the rink than he expected to be, so I have use of the town car service for the week. It’s already paid for,” she explains.

“Useful,” He agrees, though part of his brain is screaming about car service. Sasuke’s wearing jeans, a blue and cream dip-dyed shirt in that crinkly fabric that doesn’t show travel wrinkles, and a laptop bag with pokemon charms dangling from every zipper toggle like a battle reserve- not like someone with a chauffeur, even a borrowed temporary one. “Follow me.”

Tobirama is glad that he insists on keeping the public rooms of the apartment neat, but Sasuke only remarks on two things before they arrive in the kitchen: the sectional sofa that defines the living room “Looks perfect for pillow forts,” and Hashi’s balcony of plants, “Is that horseradish?” He can confirm the horseradish, but somehow he and Hashirama have never turned their living room into a blanket fortress. It might work to cheer his brother out of his next round of winter gloom.

The thought gets driven right out of his head when the array of ingredients marinating and half chopped on the counter are met not with the usual polite disinterest but something like glee. “Are you making Bahn Mi?” Sasuke demands as she drops her laptop bag on one of the bar stools and vibrates in place, “Can I help or should I stay out of the way?”

He's not sure if the lightness in his chest is normal, but he likes it. “Yes, and you can help if you’d like? I’ve got the pork in the marinade but the rest still needs doing.”

“As much as it goes against branding, I’ll let you handle the fire: it is your kitchen,” she moves around the end of the counter and into the kitchen proper to wash up. Sasuke takes over slicing the carrots and daikon and getting them into the quick-pickling brine with a cheerful humming that he’s fairly sure is actually generated in her vocal cords while he gets the bread toasting and heats the oil for the pork. “I notice no cilantro. Are you also cursed to taste soap instead of herb?”

“Yes,” he makes a face, “but we have green onions.”

“We’ll make it work,” she agrees.

The sandwiches come together smoothly after that, he gives her the bread from the oven to slice and slather while he keeps an eye on the pork and then they layer veggies and meat into handheld deliciousness. Tobirama pours two glasses of lemonade, and they eat sitting at the counter in lip-smacking silent solidarity.

“So, you have questions?” Sasuke says after finishing off her lemonade with a sigh, glancing at him before gathering up their empty plates and carrying them to the sink.

He does, but most aren’t things that can be answered with an interview, they’re built into the motions of life and training and how they make it work, or don’t. Trust comes from the gut, everything else is justification. “You want to try this?”

She pauses with her hands in the sink, then nods sharply, “Yes.”

“Okay,” he can feel the moment of tension deflate as quickly as it arose, “How do we start?”

Sasuke is a hugger. He knew this in an abstract way, but receiving is different than observing. She doesn’t hug like Hashirama the infamous rib crusher or Touka’s rhythmic back patting, but wraps her arms around him, presses her forehead against his side and squeezes slowly, as if seeking the right amount and not wanting to go over. It takes a long mental tick before he wraps his arms around her shoulders and back in response, but he manages before it’s awkward. Her hair smells nice. They don’t stay like that for too long, but he doesn’t count the breaths before they break apart and get to work.

She has draft letters on her laptop and a whole mental list of things to do, though he and Touka’s part is actually fairly small, since she jumps past the question of who will be moving with an airy “I wasn’t planning to spend this year at home anyway. Vancouver isn’t the circus but it’ll do.”

Tobirama takes notes of his own and drafts a letter for Touka to edit and send to the federation along with theirs. He also makes a mental note to ask why Sasuke she was running away to the circus, but later.

*

##### #Contact added

 **4:43 pm Me:** Contact added! Now there is no escape   
**4:43 pm Terrific Shoulders:** I think I’ll survive   
**4:44 pm Me:** ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ I’m gonna eat all your sandwiches

#####  *****

Compared to the quiet cooperation of lunch and the few hours of planning afterward, dinner is cacaphony and chaos.

Uncle Ken and Aunt Bea are mainly interested in Touka’s future plans, which is unsurprising: she lives with them to conserve funds, and while the money from the last round of advertising contracts would go a lot further in supporting a college student lifestyle, she hasn’t mentioned yet what she intends to study or where. Touka, on the other hand, seems determined to dissect his options as if she’s left him with such a great many and they all need careful examination. Hashirama is arguing with Touka about the general reliability and awesomeness of Uchiha, with Kawarama as his surprise support, citing the advantages of having them onside during past negotiations. Father is listening to that argument but not speaking much yet- he’ll wait until they’ve lost steam before starting in with his own expectations couched as concerns.

Itama and cousin Du are getting into the spirit of the thing by hunting for videos of Sasuke’s past programs and putting them up on Uncle Ken’s giant TV visible to half the table through the open arch into the living room. Unsurprisingly they start with the two videos from a few days ago, still trending on the Figure skating channels, before branching out. Uncle Ken tells them to stay away from injuries, so there’s no slow motion replay of bones breaking to ruin everyone’s appetite. Aunt Bea eventually makes them stop after they play the Bicyle Race short program three times in a row. Kawarama stops talking about lawyerly things and demands to know if Sasuke still has the ‘amazing leather coat’ from the kiss & cry or if it's died of curses yet.

Tobirama sighs.

His mother drew him aside before they sat down to help finish the desserts before they went into the freezer, asking how he felt about the entire situation. Mama listened as he described Monday’s observed test skate and Touka’s arrangement and then today’s two meetings. Aunt Bea eavesdropped blatantly right up until he described getting Sasuke’s number from Hashirama before kicking him out, but she was pulled away by urgent conflicts over the candy dish before he got to the point of decision.

So only he and Mama know that all of this arguing is pointless. Hashi may suspect but he’s enjoying the chance to revert to his teen years and wax poetic about his Rival and his rival’s delightful younger cousin. Not a younger sister as he once believed, but still a quiet and funny contrast to Madara.

“How much you like her hardly matters, Hashi. It’s Tobira’s decision,” Touka growls, then takes a breath, but Tobirama’s had enough.

“It is,” he says before she can start up again to outline the pros and cons of this sudden change for the third time.

Touka blinks at him, suddenly alert, “Yes, and you should have all the facts to make an informed choice.”

“I already talked to Sasuke and we’ve agreed to go ahead with it.” Oh, there’s the silence he was missing.

“Already?!” Touka nearly shouts, slamming her hand down on the table and jarring all the glasses. Tobirama stills the liquid with an effort of will and a motion of his hand before it can slosh over onto the tablecloth; and Touka reddens but pushes on, “But it was just this morning!”

“Sakumo told me once that ‘Decisions are made first and justified after’ and to trust my gut,” he doesn’t look away from his cousin’s glare, “I made my choice, so I didn't see the point in keeping both myself and Sasuke in suspense over an arbitrary schedule I didn’t agree to.”

Touka sits back in her chair, gaze fixing on the dark of the silenced television in the next room. “Okay, that’s fair.”

The silence might be awkward for everyone else, but Tobirama enjoys it while it lasts: his cousin Tybalt shows up with his new boyfriend less than a minute later. Tobirama and his boringly professional new partner are dropped from the center of attention like yesterday’s news. It’s a great relief.


	5. Hurricane Awesome

#####  **#Tiff**

**Group Chat:** Inoichi’s Complaints Department- SSH   
**Topic:** Halitosis of text: does it exist? Discuss

**10:00 am JST Haku:** So.   
**10:00 am JST Haku:** I hear you changed your mind about the ice circus.  
 **5:05 pm PDT Sasuke:** Another opportunity presented itself, and there’s no one waiting for me to come back. Is there?   
**5:06 pm PDT Sasuke:** How’s your apprenticeship going?  
 **10:08 am JST Haku: …** yeah. It’s going well. Helping with actual sewing this week  
 **5:11 pm PDT Sasuke:** T_T Can we stop, please? I’m tired of fighting with you over choices we didn’t want to make. We’re both doing our best with the cards we got dealt  
 **11:32 am JST Haku:** Are you free to talk?  
 **6:34 pm PDT Sasuke:** I ought to leave you on read, see how you like it :( But yeah, done with dinner, lets talk   
**11:35 am JST Shikamaru:** Whose bright idea was it to have this conversation in the group chat?   
**11:37 am JST Haku:** if I’m found dead tomorrow of having somehow stepped in front of a rogue handtruck stacked with pianos, I want everyone to know why o.O  
 **11:40 am JST Shikamaru:** Fair, Shisui is a menace even when he’s not after hair

#####  *** * *  
**

The next few weeks move in a blur. And this is despite knowing that he’s only getting pulled into a fraction of the storm that is Sasuke Uchiha moving to town.

They meet with Tsunade first to discuss terms; Sasuke brings a bottle of sake, a box of tea treats and her best manners despite the early hour. Once Tsunade is done reading the label on the alcohol and hearing the update on Jiraiya’s misfortunes in court, she’s in a very receptive mood. Tobirama drinks his coffee and leans in to read from Sasuke’s laptop as she moves from previously discussed financial terms to new suggestions to improve their performance. 

The first is a general moratorium on programs relating to beginning or ending of romantic relationships, as they are “overdone to the point of complete saturation, and obviously not a strong point for either of us.” Tobirama readily agrees. He and Touka struggled to sell such programs for years, and while Sasuke is definitely not going to hit him with sisterly feelings anytime soon, he’d rather not tempt fate by playing with fire.

The second is a practice schedule that does not involve regularly getting up at 4 in the morning, the rough outline of which includes keeping his regular weights sessions where they are to not inconvenience his training partners. It will mean twice weekly conditioning sessions in the evenings to keep up their fitness levels, but they have flexibility if they can’t get rink time, since it’s replacing part of the morning off-ice practice anyway. Then she asks if this would be acceptable as if it isn’t the answer to years of coffee fueled prayers. 

“Where have you been all my life?” Tobirama gets out his phone and deletes three fourths of the alarms on it, then types a note to change most of the other alarms scattered around his room.

Tsunade laughs and says it’s a grand plan. As if she personally supervised the pre-ice warm ups except when she hadn’t slept at all. Shizune was usually around early to make sure no one strained themselves, with Tsunade arriving once the sun was well up.

“If we’re all agreed, let’s never meet here at this hour again,” Sasuke closes her laptop and slumps against him with a fake snore. 

Hashirama is a bit upset the first time Tobirama declines to get up at the crack of dawn in favor of sleeping, but he gets over it in a few days. Tobirama is an adult with his own means of transport, and manages to find his way to the rink without any special guidance. Hashi just pouts and says that he missed the early morning snark, but it’s alive and well, just rescheduled!

The shift in his schedule leaves him in a better mood to deal with the gossip reporters that come sniffing around after about a week and so he doesn’t explode or freeze on the one who corners him on his way into the rink. He’s rescued from a barrage of inappropriate questions about himself, Sasuke, and her cousin Itachi by the Koi Koi pair. Kotetsu takes his arm and pulls him around while Izumo interposes himself with the reporter, making a patently false apology about schedules. They hustle him inside to safety and then detain him from his actual schedule long enough to lecture him about the need to cultivate his Murder Walk. 

Tobirama has no intention of murdering people for asking questions. Sakumo clarifies later that it’s just a projection of attitude, and his Pre-Coffee Mono Focus will make a fine substitute so long as he refuses to make eye contact. He works on it. Sasuke’s models without prompting when they head out into a small pack the second week, like an icebreaker cutting a channel with her presence alone.

Training with Sasuke is the eye of the storm- strangely low pressure and floaty despite the chaos spinning around her. Tsunade has an agenda of elements for them to work on calculated around maximum progress within the limits of physical and mental fatigue. Sasuke makes it a habit to drop song suggestions on him at moments of frustration. It’s a good distraction for both of them, as well as a practical way to find where their musical tastes overlap and work toward actual program ideas by a shotgun approach. She discovers his inherited enjoyment of musicals by the fourth day and it sparks a hunt for a song they can use that isn’t a love song or Too Gloomy.

The version of _What Is This Feeling (Loathing)_ that Sasuke plays and convinces him to consider for their short program isn’t the same as any he can find actually available to download, but the spirit is there.

And then Sasuke bounces into evening practice to announce that her costume designer is coming to take measurements next week. Oh and her cousin Madara is tagging along.

#####  *** * *  
**

So, there are several things that everybody knows about Toyotama Kita and Madara Uchiha. She’s the mind and needle behind all the guy’s elaborate and dramatic costumes for the past decade, since he refuses to be dressed by any other costume maker. He’s super protective – some say possessive but Tobirama doesn't credit that– getting an older skater blacklisted by his family skating group for inappropriate advances when they were both in their late teens. And lastly, that despite both of them being obviously gone on each other, neither would ever admit it and bringing it up was both pointless and painful to those who tried.

Tobirama knows all this despite having no particular interest in Madara’s love life and never meeting the reclusive costume designer in person. Somehow it never occurred to him that Sasuke would be on hugging terms with Toyotama Kita when Madara famously _isn’t_. But he’s left standing awkwardly in the international arrivals while his brother tries once again to break Madara’s ribs in a subconscious attempt at sabotage and Sasuke greets the tall Japanese woman with him in honest delight.

(He’d learned the distinction between honest and dishonest delight when Raiga tried to make up for his initial missteps by making a pass with the aid of a single blue carnation and got shot down so hard the Zanboni will be polishing the metaphorical blood from the ice for a month.)

Sasuke leaves Madara and Hashirama to their usual comedy act of hypocritical complaints and mutual amateur chiropractic maneuvers and actually introduces him. Tobirama can’t follow everything that Sasuke says to Kita-san, but the actual introduction is innocuous enough he recognizes it from old lessons.

He drags out his basic Japanese to return the greetings and Kita-san smiles at him with approval. Sasuke quirks a brow at him but doesn’t comment. He hasn’t tried to speak to her in her own language since the disaster of Junior Worlds Gala, for good reason. He apologizes that he speaks little of the language, so will need help.

“My English is also poor, so we can forgive each other, ne, Senju-san?” Kita-san suggests with a knowing smile.

Tobirama relaxes, this won’t be so bad. “Yes please.”

“Sasuke-chan’s a good translator, she’ll help you out. It’s nice to meet you again, Toyotama-san,” Hashirama says from an embrace turned wrestling lock he and Madara have paused in like they’re children instead of hypothetical adults.

Madara huffs, “Someone had to make sense fit the available space in your skull. Less traumatic shared experiences have forged bonds of a lifetime.”

“That’s so mean, I wasn’t the one traumatizing people!” Hashi disengages so he can split his pout between Madara and Sasuke.

Sasuke rolls her eyes, “Translating incoherent rage and splutter barely counts, Mada-nii.”

“Traitors everywhere these days.” Madara smooths his coat out and nods to Tobirama, only to get mussed up again when Sasuke savages him with a hug that’s less brutal than Hashi’s but no less encompassing. Madara returns the embrace and ruffles her hair, a gesture that she attempts to return only to be held at bay by Madara’s superior reach. She makes some sort of threat about airports that makes everyone else laugh and Madara let her go.

Tobirama looks at Hashirama, who says, “She said ‘no climbing’ and I’m guessing at ‘in the airport’ but the funny thing was ‘Next Time You Suffer,’” he looks at Sasuke and Madara for confirmation.

Sasuke laughs, “Close enough. You remembered a lot!”

“Couldn’t let my very best rival do all the hard work,” Hashi grins, then motions at the passenger’s carry on bags, “Can we help with anything? Toyotama-san?”

Madara laughs, “I’m glad you asked.”

Tobirama doesn’t understand the gasp or the smirk when a gray shrink wrapped package the size of a large suitcase comes out of the luggage return. Sasuke darts over to snatch the loaf and holds it up like it weighs very little despite it’s bulk. Whatever she sees must please her a great deal, because a spontaneous burst of bit tune music drowns out the incessant beeping and whir of the belts and doesn’t stop as she makes her way back to them, spinning the gray package around in a weird little dance.

“Life size Snorlax!! Shisui-nii said he was too big!”

Tobirama can see that a large snorlax face is pressed against the plastic, the head shape distorted but recognizable.

“Shisui couldn’t fit him and your mixing boards in the carton of things he sent last week, but unstuffed he wasn’t too big to come with us,” Madara’s smirk is out in force.

Kita-san says, “A small piece of home,” and adds something in Japanese that makes Sasuke’s face soften and the music shift to something nostalgic and vaguely familiar from the past week. Then she shoves the package at Hashi so she can hug them both again.

Tobirama ends up pulling along a bag that Madara identifies as, “The inescapable mothering gifts and something from Izuna.” Sasuke narrows her eyes at it but she’s got her hands full of her escape artist Snorlax even if she can tuck him under one arm to catch doors for those trundling along in her wake.

The blob fish snorlax ends up in the back seat with him, Sasuke, and Madara because the suitcases take up the entire trunk. He tugs it flat across his and Sasuke’s laps so it won’t impede Hashirama’s view out the back of the sedan and they roll out into the usual traffic. Hashirama asks Madara and Toyotama-san where they’re staying and if they want to rest? Did they sleep well on the plane then? Are they hungry? What meal are they in the mood for? And then suggests a few places where they can get decent breakfast food at this hour when Madara demands waffles and Kita-san asks after egg-toast.

Sasuke leans over from her seat in the middle to whisper rough translations and picks up his hand from holding down the egg roll snorlax almost absently. He doesn’t stop her at first because he’s curious, and then because only a fool turns down a free hand massage. If Madara thinks it’s odd he doesn’t say anything, so Tobirama decides to roll with it and gives her his other hand when she silently asks for it. They pull into an eclectic restaurant before Sasuke deems his right hand done, so he has all of dinner to figure out if he should return the favor.

#####  *** * *  
**

Hashirama is having the _best_ day.

Madara showed up for practice this morning and they had a chance to catch up and talk shop while Kita-san slept in. Then Sasuke and Tobi finally showed up and the real fun started!

Tsunade had them working on side-by-side elements, which he doesn’t have any experience with and he assumed Madara wouldn’t either. But he’s delighted to be wrong! Sasuke calls out to Madara “Spark combo?” and starts up a Fall Out Boy song with her trick. Madara grins like he’s been issued a challenge and skates over to catch up to her. They sync up their steps to the music and do that triple axel, Euler, triple lutz combination from Sasuke’s partial solo program- the sync isn’t perfect but it’s really good for Madara not being a pairs skater at all. And it also explains why parts of Sasuke’s program seemed so familiar in style, if she was working on it with Madara!

He skates over to where Tobi and Tsunade are exchanging looks and facepalms to get an explanation.

“I guess we’ll have to try it her way now or never hear the end of it. Literally,” Tsunade grumps and takes a long pull from her water bottle, clearly wishing it held something else.

“I was never opposed,” Tobi huffs, flexing his hands like he wants to stuff them in pockets he doesn’t have in his workout clothes, then skates out toward his partner and Madara, who are high-fiving and having way more fun than Tsunade.

Tsunade gives Hashirama a flat look and says only, “Everything is music with that girl. There’s nothing wrong with sighting.”

Hashirama decides that Tobi has the right of it and leaves Tsunade to her bottle and Coach Kato’s soothing.

The basic idea is to combine “sighting” on your partner with agreed upon musical cues to improve synchronization; Hashirama gathers that much from context and Tobi’s reaction to learning that Sasuke learned to land her triple axel consistently by trying to side by side Madara. Correction, succeeding in doing side by side jumps with Madara, quads excepted. Hashirama isn’t surprised at all: an Uchiha with a grudge is like those giant lasers powered by nuclear reactors from some of his favorite sci-fi stories.

Unsurprisingly, Sasuke’s the best at it, since she learned it years ago and is a musician as well as a skater. But Tobi catches on pretty quickly- Hashi thinks all the dance practice helps. They do spins with it before trying some basic jumps and Tobi’s pretty pleased with the results. His face doesn’t show it, but Hashirama knows.

It looks like a lot of fun!

Madara doesn’t want to try it with him at first, which is so unfair! Neither does Tobi! But Sasuke is a sport and does some camel spins with him to a sea shanty about a drunken sailor. He is not great at adjusting his spin speed on the fly and Sasuke teases him by having the melody wobble even though the tempo remains steady. It’s still fun!! He goads Madara into trying a few jumps with him.

Best practice in a month, and Madara wasn’t even at full energy, given the jet lag!

Tobi and Sasuke’s practice slot overlap with his ends too soon as usual, but it’s okay because Madara wants to meet Naruto without Sasuke there to run interference and Hashi wouldn’t miss that for the world.

The excuse Madara is using is delivering birthday presents, but Hashi knows an apartment inspection and interrogation when he’s facilitating it. And playing good cousin’s fiance to Madara’s skeptical older brother of his new roommate. Naruto’s pretty good natured about the whole thing despite Madara’s grilling. Hashirama doesn’t blame him for summoning Mito to his aid, though, his fiancee is magnificent in all arenas.

He and Naruto end up spectating while Mito and Madara go at it, until Hashirama’s stomach rumbles and Naruto offers them lunch. “Sasuke made this big batch of curry in the slow cooker yesterday, and it’s super good with rice or noodles. She said I could have as much as I want because she’s got other ingredients she needs to use soon and is gonna cook again tonight or tomorrow depending.”

Madara shifts his stance, attention suddenly on them instead of Mito and her verbal take down of his domineering attitude and disrespect for Sasuke’s autonomy, “Cooking is a good sign. What about cleaning?”

Naruto bristles, “I know about the stress cleaning, and you know what? Before she even decided she was going to move to Vancouver, let alone in with me, she was here and like eight protection charms snapped all at once. I helped her scrub it out while she burned down your cousin Itachi for the trash weasel he is. That Fucker better not show up with Opinions, either. I don’t have an army of lawyers but I’ve got teammates and the cold water don’t give up bodies,” he takes a breath, staring Madara in the face. “But she hasn’t done it since! Not once! Cause we’re Good! You can look for yourself, the house-blessing is right there!" he points at the pair of exuberant stick figures brandishing hockey sticks like guitars painted above the kitchen window. On a second glance, the paint does glimmer with the aura of a well fed ward, "So Like, Sasuke’s happy here, deal with it!”

Madara’s forbidding face has entirely disappeared during this tirade, replaced with that combination of smug and grateful that Hashirama’s only seen a few times, “Good. You’ll do.”

“Oh fuck you, it’s not your choice anyway.” Naruto crosses his arms and puffs up- he’s not that tall but he is solid as well as fast- has to be for his position as a defender hockey guy, as Hashirama understands it. Come to think of it, Madara isn’t that tall either, he just acts like he is and few people call him on it.

“Better than good!” Madara’s smug is overflowing now.

“Stop it or you can make your own lunch, and stop hugging me! What the hell!”

Hashirama laughs. Madara claims to be dignified but he’s just better at pretending in public.

Madara texts Kita-san to see if she’s awake and wants to eat with them, but she’s sticking with bready foods until her stomach settles from the plane and has already ordered from the hotel restaurant. They are on track to do the initial measuring for costumes that afternoon, though. Hashirama suggests his place, since there’s more room and they’ve already disrupted Naruto’s day enough.

Hashirama texts Tobi and Sasuke to let them know and gets a positive response right away, seems they’re already on their way there to make lunch. Sasuke sends him an emoji that he can’t identify but Mito says is Falafel. By the time they wash up their curry dishes, bid the Uzumaki farewell, collect Kita-san from the hotel, stop to grab bread like he promised and forgot for the past two days and circle back home, Tobi and Sasuke have finished cooking and are almost done eating some sort of salads topped with giant fried croutons that might be the falafels? He’ll ask Tobi later.

Kita-san sets up in the living room with her measuring strings and an old school tape recorder to speak the measurements and comments into. She starts with Sasuke, who disappeared into the bathroom and came back out in work out clothes that might actually be underwear, it’s hard to say. The shorts cover everything essential and just cling tight like a lot of ladies’ athletics stuff. The top might be a camisole or a tank top with the pasta straps, it’s hard to tell where that line is when there’s no lace or frills.

Tobi chokes on his own tongue, but passes it off as a coughing fit.

Of course, when it’s Tobi’s turn Madara does the translating to spare his cousin needing to order her freshly acquired and skittish partner into his underwear for the tailor. When Tobi snarks defensively at Madara, Sasuke butts in and explains that because of the level of tailoring and avoiding stretch fabrics, a more thorough level of measurement is required. The fact she’s still barely decent and completely at ease must push some combination of challenge, professionalism, and obedience buttons in his little brother’s head, because he just nods and retreats to his room to change. Hashirama doesn’t recognize the shorts Tobi comes back out wearing, but they’re black and close fitted enough to suit the costumer’s purposes.

Kita-san makes an approving noise and says to Sasuke, “This one won’t drop you.” Sasuke grins and gives her a thumbs up behind Tobi’s back.

Hashirama and Madara sit at the far end of the room and start up a silly fighting game with the volume low, to give the others the illusion of privacy while still keeping an eye on proceedings.

It’s clear that Sasuke’s trying to make this more comfortable for Tobi, but it’s like being saved from a trap by a fox. Even if the fox isn’t hungry, the possibility of being eaten is hard to forget.

Hashirama’s not stupid, he can see the signs that Tobi feels things about Sasuke, but he kind of doubts Tobi’s noticed yet. His little brothers are all smart in different ways but also really slow on the uptake when it comes to feelings. He’s not sure if Tobi’s ever dated, if so it was so low key and short lived that no one in the family ever found out. Hashi knows there was at least one instance of kissing, because Tobi had called him for advice about what to do if you kissed someone (and by implication enjoyed it) but weren’t able to follow through. Hashirama had advised him to be honest because that’s what mom would have said and Tobirama calmed down. But no amount of follow up prying would ever get Tobi to reveal how it turned out or who it was.

The point is, Hashi knows it's possible, even if Tobi pretends it never happened.

When Kita-san asks to see lifts, Tobi is stressed enough to look up at the ceiling and then at the costume designer and visibly bite back a comment.

“From sitting, if it is possible?” Kita-san asks, then elaborates in Japanese, “So your arms will not get pinched or trapped.”

Sasuke translates and adds, “I know static holds are a pain, we can do this part in phases.”

“I’m not worried about holding you,” Tobi says, with a bit of acid, “unless you concussed yourself on the overhead lamp with one of your rabbit leaps.”

Sasuke laughs at him, “You’ll just have to sit so I won’t, Tall Snark and Handsome.” She pushes Tobi toward one of the solid chairs they’d inherited from grandfather, strong enough to hold the weight of two people easily. If he’s less than graceful dropping into it, and fighting to maintain his composure, it may be that only Hashirama knows him well enough to notice.

“He is handsome. Good hands, yes? Plenty of stamina too,” Kita-san teases in Japanese and Sasuke is saved from Tobi spotting her blush by the sideways entrance into the first lift.

Hashirama turns back to the game, but he and Madara are both phoning it in. Their rivalry is on the ice, not in Smash Bros.

“There’s nothing like that, it’s just a joke.”

“The proof of the pie is in the eating, that’s the phrase, yes?”

“We both know I burn everything I try to bake.”

“Maybe this one is baked alaska, you don’t know yet.”

“I guess he might... melt.”

It’s probably best that Tobirama can’t understand them talking about him like he’s fancy ice cream cake that Sasuke might eat if he lets his guard down.

Hashirama gives up on the Smash Brothers when Madara discovers Pikachu and starts zapping him with way too much enthusiasm. He’s got his phone out and manages to snap a picture when the lift ends with Sasuke cradled in Tobi’s lap, arms around his neck and shoulder. And both of them staring at each other for a moment before unfreezing and pretending everything is fine and normal when Sasuke’s phone beeps from the side table.

“Ah, Kita-san, Haku says Itachi-shi came in for an appointment but isn’t in your books anymore?” Sasuke says after a moment, her voice trying to sound amused but coming out wooden. He’s never heard that tone from her, and Madara also turns to observe. It’s not their looks that has Sasuke’s free hand pressed against her nose and cheek, it was already in that position before she spoke. Hashirama wonders again what did happen with Uchiha Itachi.

Kita-san smiles but it’s cool, “I will not subject my staff to a man who would treat a young lady so, nor him to the consequences of their ire.”

“What’s wrong?” Tobi asks, concerned. He pushes himself out of the chair, but hovers a step away from Sasuke with his hand in the air, unsure of what to do.

No one says anything for a moment. Madara looks like he’s biting his tongue to not light something on fire and Kita-san is waiting to see what Sasuke will say.

Eventually Sasuke lowers her hand from her face and says, “Trying to skate with Uchiha Itachi was a mistake. Thankfully I did not waste too much time before he showed me how big. And,” now she does smile though it’s strained, “I’m very grateful that he’s been proved wrong once again.” She puts her empty hand in Tobi’s even as she turns to incline her head to Kita-san, “Thank you, Kita-san. Let him twist in the wind looking for a new costume designer.”

Kita-san’s smile gains teeth, “That is the plan. Now, where were we?”

Sasuke smirks, tossing down her phone and spinning into Tobi like they were paused in the middle of a dance rather than engaged in an awkward attempt at comfort while mostly undressed, “Spin positions. I’ll spot you.”

“Thank you?” Tobi doesn’t quite squeak but his blush is back.

Hashirama goes into the kitchen to see if there’s any popcorn left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, cameo crossover character, don't steal the show. ;)


	6. Sometimes It Stings

# Media: split opinions

Spinners and Bait @FSCrabcakes  
I don’t see why Uchiha/Senju pair makes people so mad tho. Nobody Available is That Level so why the fuss about TS in particular?  
|  
Will S Pear @NoPucksGiven  
@FSCrabcakes H.Yuki also choked in juniors, solved after paired with SU. New Partner could solve TS choking; like killing a fly with a tank  
|  
Spinners and Bait @FSCrabcakes  
@NoPucksGiven People mad that their Princess is also a Tank that Solves Problems. Got it!  
|  
Anjo @Matsudaira1551  
@FSCrabcakes @NoPucksGiven Many fans are upset to see her leave Japan. MirrorSong was dominant here & SnorSlak before that  
|  
Anjo @Matsudaira1551  
Uchiha Itachi’s fans are angry, tho U/U pair was never confirmed officially. They Blame Inoichiya for SU for leaving & TS for theft  
|  
Anjo @Matsudaira1551  
Tomato Princess will be greatly missed here, though we wish her much success & happiness with her new partner!

*

Sasuke flips Hashi over her hip onto his ass after an ill considered ambush hug attempt with a drawn out growl from her and a yelp of surprise from Tobirama’s older brother. She leaves him gasping apologies in the middle of the lunch room at the rink, stepping back over to watch the microwave reheating her lunch like nothing of note happened.

“Damn Uchiha!” Suigetsu whistles from his seat at the counter, “If you won’t let me take you out, can we spar sometime?”

“From the context I think you would enjoy it too much, so no,” Sasuke stirs her food and then puts it back in for another minute.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Suigetsu’s cheer remains undimmed, as it does with every one of Sasuke’s refusals.

“I can and I will. Eh, Hashi?”

“I forgot you do that, I’m sorry,” Hashirama says, still from the floor.

“You shouldn’t grab anyone without warning, and certainly not girls so much smaller than you. You’re not 14: it’s not silly and forgivable anymore,” Her pronunciation is especially crisp as she says it, but there’s no threat. Just the implacable surety that he will understand this or she will flip him onto his ass every time until he does.

Hashi wilts even further, but makes an affirmative sound before slowly pulling himself upright, “I’ll remember.”

“Do that.” Sasuke gingerly pulls her covered plate from the microwave, checking for even heating before carrying it over to Tobirama and Sakumo’s table.

“Can you teach me how to toss Hashi like a doll when he tries to ambush hug me?” Tobirama asks after swallowing a bite of sandwich.

She considers him, “Your center of gravity is higher than mine, so it won’t be as easy, but I don’t see any reason you couldn’t learn.”

Sakumo chuckles into his barbecue, “I’ll help. You’ll need a stand in of the right height and build.”

Sasuke gives him a thumbs up, company manners too drilled in to talk through the mouthful of probably curry she’s chewing.

Sasuke and Sakumo’s prior acquaintance was another case of the world of winter sports being surprisingly small. As Sasuke explained it, “You know Kakashi? Well, Kakashi hates being recognized, except for when he hates not being recognized by certain people much worse. He and Shuisui-nii are the same age and both speed skaters in a lot of the same races. Shisui-nii is a terrible troll. Sakumo-san had to keep Kakashi from committing murder with long knife-shoes while I made my big brother shut up before the homicide was justified by local witnesses. You know, the usual.”

"Otherwise a lovely evening in Oslo," Sakumo had added, calm as anything.

"Agreed."

Tobirama’s glad Sasuke knows someone at the rink besides himself and Hashi and the regrettable Raiga.

Orochimaru had lingered for a week, confirmed that he was comfortable with either he or they pronouns, thank you for asking, then disappeared for a few weeks. When he reappeared it was with his chief minion Manda, a demon of paperwork and organization in human disguise; and a choreographer who looks old enough to have witnessed the inception of figure skating as a sport, but was still spry enough to get around without a cane or other form of assistance. Even Orochimaru didn’t cross Manda, instead bringing his own supposed assistant offerings of hot coffee and calling them sacrifices, while Old Chiyo only cackled and ordered everyone around with little care to affiliation or propriety. What exactly they were doing to the three under-coaches and eight skaters under their care was unclear from the outside, but the amount of personal attention from such rarefied personages had broken the clique of young idiots into singletons with substantially higher self-awareness and self preservation instincts, no longer protected by the herd.

Mostly.

Raiga is still a fool in Tobirama’s opinion, but at least he stopped bothering Sasuke after Orochimaru returned and applied sufficient pressure. She doesn’t seem to mind Suigetsu’s teasing attempts to flirt, but Raiga’s persistence was much less welcome.

Maybe Raiga would end up on the ground with less kindness than Hashi? It didn’t seem likely, he just lingered, unwilling to push past physical boundaries.

Tobirama comes back to the present conversation in time to hear Sasuke suggest oyster sauce.

“With pork?” Sakumo looks skeptical.

Tobirama grins. Sasuke’s much more of a proselytizer for “unconventional” flavor combinations than he is, but he’s come to enjoy listening to her pitches when she doesn’t have the ingredients on hand.

#### *

There’s no reason that it has to be all three of them every time Sasuke goes to meet a new tailor, but they continue as they began: Sakura in the passenger seat after calling ‘shotgun,’ directing Naruto to the new appointment and pointing out local landmarks like a tour guide, relegating Sasuke to either the back or the middle seat, depending on how she wants her squishing. One or two tailors and then dinner had become a set pattern, as had the rhythm of their arguments before placing the latest prospects onto the ranking chart that Sakura was keeping because she preferred organization to instinct.

They’ve been doing it once or twice every week or so since the initial flurry of moving calmed down and while they’re nowhere near exhausting the available restaurants in Vancouver, Sasuke thought they’d actually managed to go through all the tailors advertising the kind of services she wanted. Maybe she’d missed one. Or one of the previously unacceptable options had undergone a change of management?

“You know other people can hear you when you go all _‘what an unfortunate accident, needle to the eye you say’_ right?” Naruto asks.

“It’s important to keep promises. And you have no proof I wished Mr. Smythe anything but the best.”

Sakura turns in her seat to look back at her, “Your twitter rant about the importance of privacy compared to the pursuit of fame the day after meeting him was entirely unrelated, of course.”

“Of Course.” Sasuke ignores the look shared by the front seaters. She’s in the back because she’s the short one, she’s allowed to feign blindness to anything outside her little realm of discarded food wrappers, ice scrapers, and blankets. Actually, the visual noise of the mess is getting to her. She smooths one of the blankets over the other seat to put off the cleaning 'til later.

“Since you’ve rejected all the adults for variations of,” Sakura pulls out the chart, clearly intent on making a production of it: “Smelling of avarice or feral lunch theft.”

“A right insult to ferrets, that was,” Naruto puts in.

“Lack of privacy policy or willingness to gossip without manipulation.”

“Have we mentioned that you treat clothing gossip like nuclear launch codes and assume everyone is else is also a fucking spy?”

“Calling my favorite shirt an eyesore.”

“Clearly irreconcilable differences, that.”

“Bad Vibes,” Sakura rolls her eyes so hard it carries over into her voice, “I thought the assistant there was the best of the ones we’ve met.”

Naruto comes to a stop instead of rolling through the yellow light, and Sasuke reaches up to steady Sakura so she doesn't slide toward the windscreen, “I’m actually with Sasuke on that one, Sakura. She’s got curse problems, and that place felt bad. It wasn’t just the lighting, and one good assistant doesn’t make up for that.”

Sasuke hums. That visit had been incredibly awkward.

Thankfully, Sakura moves on without fighting about it further. “Wearing that shade of pink under any circumstances, given her skin tone.”

“I think you’ve got to field that one, Sakura,” Naruto starts them moving again as the light turns.

“Thank you, Naruto. Refusing a perfectly nice old lady because she happens to like Pink? I’m insulted, Sasuke. Personally.”

Sasuke snorts, “And yet the old lady herself said she mostly does fitting for clothes people bring her, not cutting original garments anymore. I respect Ms. Matilda for knowing her limits. It’s not like I insulted her sweater to her face!”

Sakura grumbles but moves on to the next list item, “Obsequious behavior unbecoming an artisan? Why don’t I remember this one?”

Naruto chimes in, “Because I kept calling him a toady and Sasuke insists there is only one person she calls the Toad and we got derailed. He did have his lips firmly attached to Sasuke’s ass the whole time we were there.”

Sakura tuts, “Not good for an honest opinion.”

Sasuke huffs, “Or to be told no when you have a bad notion.”

“So you want someone who tells you yes but also no, tells no one else anything at all, has taste and color sense but _doesn’t_ like the taste of your ass or money so much it blinds them to the fact their shop is low-key cursed when you hint.”

“Yes,” Sasuke nods along, “that sounds about right.”

“No one has managed to meet all of those qualities, Princess, so we’re going to the art school’s college annex dressmaker’s show,” Sakura turns her attention back to the road and directs Naruto to take a left at the next light. “Next year’s seniors and soon-to-be graduates, so they should be competent enough for street clothes, and your costumes are still Toyotama, ne?”

Sasuke considers the notion and finds she likes it. “I’m so glad I hired you two for this.”

“One of these days we’re gonna have to get paid in more than food, you know,” Naruto’s complaint is about as genuine as his threats to eat his cat for sleeping on his face.

Sakura smacks Naruto’s arm and scolds him. This is amazing teamwork! Sasuke’s so glad she agreed to that first lunch with Mito and Sakura back when this all started.

“I was thinking matching dresses, something in purple could work for all of us. What do you think, Sakura?”

As hoped, this argument keeps them all engaged the rest of the way to the college in question.

Chocho Akimichi is a treasure, Sasuke will be glad they met for a long time.

#####  *****

Sasuke is leading Tobirama through one of the kata turned warm up routines that she uses to drill the movements for the hip throw when she mentions that Toyotama-san will be coming in a few days with their costumes for a second fitting.

“So soon?”

“It’s been almost six weeks,” Sasuke adjusts his posture and then nods, satisfied, “So they aren’t completely finished in the details but will be in shape enough to test.”

Tobirama counts and it has been almost two months since Sasuke arrived. Time is slipping away if they want to have two programs ready to compete this season, even rough ones. “Do you have any more suggestions for the long program?”

The program music he and Touka were considering is entirely wrong for him and Sasuke, but nothing else he listens to when he shuffles through his music collection seems right either. Many of his favorite classical composers they’ve used before and choked on the free skate, tainting the source by association despite his best efforts.

Sasuke flips into a bridge in a blatant bid to break eye contact, but he doesn’t call her on it. He’d asked her to stop making suggestions a week or so ago to give him space to think, and she’d granted him the relative quiet. For what good it did.

“There is one song I’ve been thinking about, but I’m not sure if you’ll like it.” She steps out of the bridge and sits down before closing her eyes and summoning up a song from memory, though instead of just coming on like a CD, this sounds like a real memory complete with a disc jockey announcing the band and track name and the music coming through a speaker. It’s clear enough to make out the melody and general attitude of the song.

_Shut Up and Dance._

It’s on the line of a romantic song, depending on your interpretation, but when he listens to the chorus he realizes why he might not like it. He looks over and Sasuke’s watching him, elbow on her knee, chin on her palm, smirk on her face.

“You think I’m going to have confidence issues on the long program.” It’s not a question.

“My goal is to not allow that to become an issue, Bira-san. No one is going to be expecting great things from us our first year except for us. So we stack the deck, that’s the phrase, yes? Give ourselves a good hand so we can do our best.” she mimes flipping something over with the hand not holding her chin, then straightens up so she can cackle like a supervillain, “They don’t realize that with your lifts and step sequences and my musicality, we’re a threat even this year. Mwahahaha!”

She seems to expect some sort of response, so he sits cross legged opposite, considering, “What does that have to do with this song?”

“Real intense musicality doesn’t just happen. For that we need music that means something, even if it stings. If you don’t like all the words I can fix that, get rid of the romantic things. Destiny and forever is not the point, it’s about Focus. Freedom through defiance of the eyes and the points and the structures and the math. Skate like they don’t matter, because it comes down to just two people on the ice for those few minutes. Shut Up and Skate.” Her smirk turns wry and self-deprecatory, “And that goes double for all our doubts. But as I was saying, easy to pare it down now that I’ve got my boards. From a clean version of the song, of course.”

He can’t argue with most of that, so he says, “Bira-san?”

Sasuke groans and flops backward as if the ceiling will save her, “Fine, Tobirama, if you prefer.”

“It was not a complaint, merely a question.”

“I agree that Hashi is a Hashi but Tobi doesn’t feel right. Maybe Tobira?” she sits up on one elbow and considers him, “You don’t flutter enough for Birabira to really work, Tobi’iri. Tobikiri? Tobitatsu, no Tatsubi!” the smirk is back and Tobirama interjects before she can saddle him with a name he doesn’t understand.

“Hold up, haven’t I heard Madara call you that?”

“I’m Satsumi. Izuna is Tatsumi. You could be Tatsubi, it'll be a tongue twister.”

“I’d rather not, but I’ll bite. Why does Madara sometimes call you Satsumi?”

Sasuke pauses, “Oh wow... Family nicknames never make as much sense once you have to explain them. So, my cousin Izuna and I were born nearly together, but before we were born my parents thought I was going to be a boy, and his parents thought he was going to be a girl. My name didn't change, though the characters did. Tatsumi, on the other hand, got changed to Izuna at the last moment. But the name was already on half of his gifts from other people, so we were Tatsumi and Satsumi whenever some cousin wanted to annoy us forever after.”

“Good to know cousins are annoying like that wherever you go, Satsumi.”

“Hai, To-bi-ra,” Sasuke undulates in that specific way that martial artists and gymnasts have puts her suddenly on her feet and ruffling his hair, “So annoying.”

He’s learned a counter to something very similar to that just a few minutes ago, so tries it and is gratified when she lets him get the throw off despite having to stop and correct, rather than counter-tossing him across the practice mats.


	7. Plunge

The second costume fitting is more like Christmas used to be- over excited fashion maven crowing over their haul before the box is even opened, Tobirama trying to hide his own sense of dread under a smile as he’s urged to open his own boxes. Madara is very much not a holiday tree, even if he is wearing a green jacket for some unknowable reason. At least Toyotama-san assuredly has better taste than his aunt Bea.

And oh how mortifying it had been to be corrected on Toyotama-san’s name last night when he asked if Hashirama was going with them to the airport again. He knows better than to use a Japanese person’s first name uninvited. He hadn’t swapped the name order in his own mind and then accidentally followed Madara and Sasuke’s lead instead of his brother’s, like an over-familiar fool. Toyotama-san had accepted his apology without rancor, though he’d had to bribe Sasuke with the promise of the last Everything Bagel back at his apartment to get her to repeat the words in Japanese until he could recite it without hesitation.

The first garment box he opens is for their short program, and as promised he is in the pink to Sasuke’s green. He remembers that conversation very clearly for all he’d only understood half of it and been terribly distracted the whole time; standing as still as he could to not bump against Sasuke, who moved around him to fetch and hand Toyotama-san things, close enough to sense the warmth of her passage but without ever actually making contact. He endured while trying to keep up as the ladies discussed colors, asking his preferences between Ki-  _ Toyotama-san _ holding up swatches of silk against his neck and commenting on his skin tone. 

Yes, he was in pink because he was closer to blond from the song, but also because Sasuke is a troll.

It’s actually not as offensively pink as it might be, more powdery than pale or fluorescent, and the charcoal grey embroidery keeps it from overwhelming. He pulls it out to get a better look: mandarin collar, no sleeves, the bits of embellishment scattered semi-randomly for interest are a kanji character he recognizes as one for Luck. An interesting touch. The box contains an off-white undershirt and trousers in a charcoal to match the details and trim of the shirt. He has certainly worn worse looking things on the ice in recent years; regardless of how others feel about he and Touka’s teen goth program, he still considers it a point of comparison for costumes, and many had failed. He can't say that about this one yet.  


Sasuke is quicker than him, already on her second box and gushing to Toyotama-san faster than he can follow. He does catch his name and looks up when Sasuke switches to english and says, “Bira, look, look! Flappers, Jazz, Swing, that’s what we need.” The dress she’s holding up is a very nice shade of medium blue with gold trim and embellishments and in a style that may be from the era she’s named, he doesn’t know enough about fashion to dispute it.

“Jazz dress?” He’s not sure what she means.

Sasuke doesn’t answer directly, but she looks excited. “I can fix it. The song for the long program, Jazz it up for real.”

Tobirama still isn’t sure what she’s on about, but Madara seems interested, so he nods along.

Toyotama-san urges them to get dressed, and so they adjourn to the changing stalls. “Blue first?” Sasuke suggests, and Tobirama nods, though he still hasn’t seen his own outfit yet.

He must make some noise of dismay when he finishes pulling on the tunic over the provided under shirt- it’s the same shade of blue, but with the ripple-patterned gold trim on the cuffs and around the deep neckline only, rather than scattered over the fabric in waves like Sasuke’s dress. The neckline is also very deep.

"Oh, should have warned you that Toyotama-san loves a good v-neck," Sasuke calls from the next stall over.

Tobirama rubs the back of his head as he eyes the amount of skin left exposed. “I think this qualifies as a plunge.”

Sasuke giggles and then swallows a hiccup, “At least you have the chest for it.”

“Thank you?”

“I say it with respect and appreciation for the ease with which you toss me into the air. Your nascent horde of fans will say it with squee, fanart, and merch purchases,” Her voice shifts from deadpan to far too amused as she describes the thirsty masses yet unplumbed.

Tobirama finds the matching warm up jacket in the bag and is relieved to see that it zips right up to his chin.

Toyotama-san makes him take the jacket off when they get on the ice for their test skate, but at least he doesn’t have to wander around the rink feeling like a showgirl.

#####  **#Raiga’s demise, a Twitterlude**

**Suigetsu** @Knifeshoes22

@KOI_Skates any audio of @ThunderStep6669’s exile to outer darkness of costuming? Got receipts from @Snorlax_skater but you were closer

|

**Kotetsu** @KOI_Skates

Behold, exhibit A in @ThunderStep6669 ’s Sexual Harassment Review board  
[A video of a conversation between Raiga Okiba and Kita Toyotama.] [Click for transcript.]  


(108 replies)(8,133 retweets)

|

**Suigetsu** @Knifeshoes22

Exhibit B- Boss-human and He Who Must Be Obeyed are divesting.

[A video of a conversation between Raiga Okiba, Obochimaru Mizuchi, and V. Manda][Click for transcript.]

(109 replies)(7,987 retweets)

|

**She Who Skates Behind** @BigSkeets

tl;dr/for mobile (1/2)- Woman at work ignores man hitting on her, he assumes no response = permission to continue/escalate. She crushes him

|

**She Who Skates Behind** @BigSkeets

tl;dr/for mobile (2/2)- Man’s Career Death blow delivered by NB Skating All Around Champion and Malta NOC’s Avatar, poetic but pithy 10/10

(52 replies)(2,970 retweets)

|

**Raiga** @ThunderStep6669

You can’t post this, take it down right now! What the hell guys! @Knifeshoes22 @KOI_Skates

(37 replies)(160 retweets)

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**Suigetsu** @Knifeshoes22

How about no @ThunderStep6669

|

**Raiga** @ThunderStep6669

I’ll make you! @Knifeshoes22

|

**Suigetsu** @Knifeshoes22

Good luck man. @Snorlax_skater and @MadaraU are both made of lawyers, fire, and spite. They’ll be on my side

|

**Uchiha Madara** @MadaraU (confirmed)

Take care that you do not offend Toyotama-san further. @ThunderStep6669 Carry on @Knifeshoes22 @KOI_Skates

(1,237 replies)(7,884 retweets)

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**Spinners and Bait** @FSCrabcakes

Did you get any shots of U/S? This was a costume test if Toyotama-san was at the rink, right?@Knifeshoes22 @KOI_Skates

|  


**Suigetsu** @Knifeshoes22

It was and I gotchu fam. Princess and her new jester in their sartorial glory  
[click for more photos]  
  
(983 replies)(12,344 retweets)

|  
  
**Sasuke Uchiha** @Snorlax_Skater

I know I’m late to this thread, but Relevant Links to the Legend of Toyotama-Hime, Dragon Princess/Goddess below (1/3)  
  
(221 replies)(5,609 retweets)

|

**[** **Redacted]** @BotansBroom

All Haill Toyotama-hime, patron of the eye candy costumes. Truly we are blessed.  
  



	8. Bagel Quest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you smell something burning?

The costume test skate goes well for them and explodes on Raiga, but that’s entirely par for the course by this point. Tobirama endures Toyotama-san checking the fit of the second outfit by hand with more equanimity knowing what true destruction looks like; he has not angered the dragon with his presumption on her name.

He finds that compared to the blue, the pink shirt isn’t bad at all. The collar is high and the fit is good and he’s fine with having his arms exposed to the world’s scrutiny.

It’s the next few days that get weird. Sasuke descends into some sort of musical mania when not required to focus on skating practice, conditioning, or to help translate Toyotama-san’s questions. Hashi is perfectly happy to needle and prod Madara while Toyotama-san is busy making the many small adjustments that she thinks are needed to their costumes. Tobirama tires of Hashi and his rival’s antics quickly and on the second day he visits Sasuke to see what she’s doing instead of teasing her suddenly love struck cousin herself.

Tobirama has never seen Sasuke use the pair of sound boards usually hanging on the wall in Naruto’s dining room like bizarre art, but today she has them set up on the dining table and an elaborately painted box speaker that had been masquerading as an end table until Sasuke needed it for this. Her laptop is hooked up to all of this by several cables, and his eye follows some of them to a microphone and a small piano keyboard, maybe two octaves worth of rainbow and black keys. When Naruto lets him in it’s quiet, but before he can say anything Sasuke moves a slider and taps something into her computer and the music surrounds them.

It’s reminiscent of _Shut Up_ in the driving rhythm and the main melodic line, but the instrumentation and style have shifted entirely to big band swing. He can hear horns, drums, a whole section of saxophones, a string bass and a rhythm piano and when Sasuke moves her fingers over the keyboard a second piano part comes in, this one adding arpeggio riffs and embellishments to the melody during the pre-chorus and chorus.

Tobirama decides that his question about what she’s doing has been sufficiently answered and shuts his mouth.

Naruto smirks at him, gesturing at the couch and then mimes drinking from a glass.

Tobirama nods and takes a seat. There’s nothing he needs to be doing for a little while, he can wait.

Naruto takes a mostly empty glass from next to Sasuke to refill with exaggerated care to not disturb her setup and she notices enough to lift her head toward him, so she isn’t totally lost in the music.

Tobirama mouths a thanks to Naruto when he brings him a glass of water too, but thinks Naruto has the right of it when the other man drapes himself sideways across an armchair the better to bounce one leg and his head to the beat. It’s easy to picture program elements set to this, the footwork flourishes they could incorporate. They sit and listen through several complete loops of the song with slight variations on the new piano part, on the third and fourth time there’s actual vocals. It takes Tobirama a long minute to recognize the mix of voices as Naruto on the heavily modified verses with Sasuke tuned down half an octave on the chorus. The vocals go away on the next loop, and he wonders about it but trusts that Sasuke has a reason.

When Sasuke finishes adding the piano thread to the mix she pulls an earbud from her ear and spins around in her chair to look at him, “Hey, need something?”

He needs her to go back to ignoring him, because he’s not sure if he can apply a brain filter and maintain eye contact at the same time. Blurting out ‘your competence in multiple fields is very appealing, please stop’ would not go over well.

Then Tobirama spots the plate at her elbow littered with sesame seeds fallen from some hapless bun or bagel and remembers what he owes. The bread box has fallen to the mice that plague his apartment complex; they need something more impervious to gnawing teeth than mere wood before he or Hashi forget and melt plastic all over the baking pan the bread products are stored in at the moment. Maybe there was something in ceramic that wouldn’t make the bread taste odd?

He lets his gaze drift back to Sasuke, who doesn’t look bothered by the delay in his answer.

“I still owe you a bagel,” He pulls his phone out and gestures with it, “I’m sorry to say that mice got the one at home, but there’s got to be a bakery around here somewhere.”

Sasuke shifts so the over-sized jersey she’s wearing slides over her legs, giving her a general egg shape as she squats atop her chair, “I already had a bagel today, offer me something else or try again tomorrow.”

From his own chair Naruto snorts a laugh, “Bossy.”

“Bribes should be prompt or adjusted to account for lateness.” Sasuke lifts her chin, “Or will there be Bagel plus the head of the mouse who stole what was rightfully mine?”

“I’m not sure which of them it was, or I might consider your rather barbaric proposal,” Tobirama lets a smirk pull at his mouth.

“This is why you need a cat. A cat wouldn’t hesitate to bring me A Mouse and let it be a warning to the rest.”

Tobirama chuckles. He knows cats to be murderous enough to do that, but pets aren't allowed by their lease. “So no bagel today. How about tomorrow's bagel? We can try making some, since they wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow anyway.”

Sasuke perks up, then sighs, “We’d have to use your place, since the oven here doesn’t maintain temperature and the landlord needs more convincing to replace it.”

“I would love an excuse to send Hashi and Madara on a quest," Tobirama grins, "We need a new bread box that the mice can’t chew through.”

“Like a bread crock?” Naruto puts in, “My granny has a big ceramic one for her bread. Says bread on it. And one for cookies that also says bread. For maximum confusion.”

“Yeah, just the thing to send them out for.”

##### #Roast

 **Group-chat:** Diva/Dragon Receipts

 **Topic:** Another Romantic Trip to Vancouver

 **Set New Topic:** Diva Has Hatched!

 **2:31 am Sasuke:** Confirming Madara’s odd behavior of the past few days is not a drill. 

**2:36 am Sasuke:** prepare the roasting racks, the egg has finally hatched into a chicken. Only took eye-witness proof of the inner dragon cutting a man off at the knees. I shall summarize our most recent conversation.

> Me: u ok?
> 
> Madara: :scream: Kita-san is hot! I Cannot Deal.
> 
> Me: Oh, so you noticed at last. What was it, the casual murder of an asshole's career?
> 
> Madara: :cry: I'm not going to talk to you if you're going to be worse that Hashirama
> 
> Me: Take that back!

**2:40 am Sasuke:** Mada-nii proceeded to be full of woe while extolling Kita-san’s virtues. At length. In conclusion, I am not worse than Hashirama and things may finally start to happen. 

**2:42 am Sasuke:** I expect the plane ride back to be very quiet and then Madara to have a melt-down from that long in close proximity. Kita-san will sleep through this, lucky her.

 **2:45 am Sasuke:** You’ve all been warned. :D

 **5:33 am Shisui:** OMG, finally!

#####  *** * *  
**

When Tobirama gets back with the bakery bagels the apartment is free of smoke and any signs of the burning scent of a few hours ago and Touka and Hashi are sitting at the table while Sasuke presides over the array of leftovers they’ll be finishing off tonight. So, a pretty typical Thursday now that their international visitors have all left.

He holds up the bag of his haul, “So good news, bad news. The good news is I have the Goods to replace the bagels we burned. The bad news is that the bakery guy thinks my partner is pregnant, but doesn't know that I switched partners. Sorry Touka,” Tobirama expects some sort of verbal burn at his expense, but not too bad, as Touka did get in plenty while the smoke alarm was wailing earlier.

Touka snorts, “But I am pregnant.”

Everyone stares. At least Tobirama isn’t alone in his shock.

Touka seizes her chance to grab the bag of pastries from his arm, but Sasuke holds out her hand with such expectation that his cousin digs out the well wrapped onion bagel first before pilfering his blueberry scone like he didn’t get her the requested lemon tart.

“Hold up, wait, wait, what?” Hashirama manages, even though his pretzel rolls are forever and always safe from Touka’s ravening. “How are you pregnant?”

“The usual way. No special equipment needed,” Touka drawls, as if it’s a grand joke rather than a life changing circumstance.

“Congratulations,” Sasuke says in the driest possible tone from the kitchen island, where she is now doing something complicated to her bagel. “Will you be keeping the father as well?”

“Yes, I put a ring on that already.”

Tobirama misses the chair he was trying to sit on. “Touka!”

“Hmmm?” his cousin is far too smug about this entire situation.

“When did you Elope?” he demands from the floor. He's not injured but he is a little hurt. Didn't he warrant being told she was getting married? Is this why she wanted a break from skating?

“And with who?” Hashi tacks on, shock and confusion giving way to his usual eagerness.

“I don’t think you’ve met him, Hashi.” Touka fishes a loop of silk cord out from under her shirt and spins the ring on the end of it, “We met online but it grew into more. He’s a keeper.”

“You Eloped with Aoba? Of the Oversized Sunglasses? Inquisitor Aoba?” Tobirama grabs the edge of the table and hauls himself up, catches Hashi’s juice when it spills over the edge of his glass with a thought but lets Touka save her own coffee. “Seriously?”

“Yes, he’s amazing,” Touka sighs in happiness.

Tobirama steals his scone back. Touka doesn't deserve double baked goods right now.

“Will we get to meet him soon?” Hashi asks through a mouthful of pretzel roll.

“Hopefully. He’s from Detroit so it may be awhile before he can join me permanently,” Touka’s cheer dims a bit, then she bites into her lemon tart vindictively, “But he should be visiting soon.”

Sasuke rejoins them with a simple call of, “Hot!” Sliding the baking sheet of re-heated goodies onto the waiting trivets on the center of the table before returning to the kitchen for her own drink and baked good appetizer. “I have a question.”

They turn to give her the floor.

“There's nothing weird about wanting an onion bagel if they were out of Everything Bagels, so what led the bakery guy to divine someone here was pregnant?”

Tobirama ducks his head and mumbles, but doesn’t draw this out by pretending he said nothing, “I may have mentioned that you like to eat them with smoked cheddar and leftover peking duck.”

Sasuke’s face is a near perfect impression of a shocked pikachu, save the ears. Then she puts down her bagel so lovingly topped with layers of basil and deconstructed crab-puffs to more dramatically point at him as she thunders, “You Liked That Recipe Too, You Traitor!”

Touka and Hashirama both laugh at his woe and dramatist of a skating partner. They laugh harder when Sasuke launches herself at him, but he's watching when she signals her intent and so the tackle is more of a sudden test of his lessons in taking a fall than a real assault.   
  
She complains about immovable giants during their slow slide to the floor, but her hand on the back of his head reminds him to tuck his chin and the impact is manageable despite the added weight. Once they are out of sight of his brother and cousin, Sasuke hugs him and whispers, "I didn't know either."

Tobirama wraps his arms around his partner and breathes. It's a little disorienting to feel seen and invisible at once, and he doesn't know how to respond or what to say to his cousin. So he says nothing until Touka kicks his chair and calls, "Hey lovebirds, if you want any of this get back up here."

Then it's his turn to laugh as Sasuke replies with a burst of replicated parrot noises that might be lovebirds, but is definitely mockery.

"It's all leftovers," Tobirama says as Sasuke rolls away and they both rise. "We can make something fresh."


	9. Knife Shoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive any mistakes with Hidan's names, I tried. It's Priest-son, approximately.

**#Affable**

RinkyDinkThinks @IceWatcher  
Infamous Moneyman Kakuzu spotted with #Uchiha Sasuke & #Hidan at popular seafood spot in DT Vancouver. Business dinner or casual chat?

|

Flashing Nista @toobi4this  
*sob* why is affable evil so well tailored?

|

Hidan Svjaščénnikyuk @CasusHockey  
Why is the half shucked seafood more important than my ****ing surname?

|

Sasuke Uchiha @Snorlax_skates  
@CasusHockey If one of us had choked on an oyster it would have been an important detail!

#####  *****

Tobirama isn’t sure how or why Suigetsu attached himself to them, but after the Malta Bros club is destroyed by the three dragons of Orochimaru, Manda and Toyotama, not even Izumo complains about the snarky bastard anymore. So it's unlikely he will be leaving. That doesn’t make it less annoying to be waved and hollered at from across the rink. “Princess! Tobirama! Come get your time slot to dance pretty for the Fates.”

“What’s this about?” Sasuke asks, fingers finding his elbow and curling around his arm.

So he explains as they take the long way around. The officials coming to see proposed programs and select teams for the first half of the competition year is next week. The gathering to sort out who sees them when is a tradition older than his time as a skater. Tsunade might know the origins, but Tobirama has never thought to ask, more interested in getting any time slot and then running away.

The crowd around Sakumo is still building, for all that only those actually skating for Canada need to be on the chart, everyone comes to kibitz and gossip. Not just from their own rink, either, which is why the crowd is sprinkled across two sections of bleachers already. He spots Asuma in a half serious standoff with the Koikoi pair behind Sakumo’s back and Kurenai with her own little circle of junior skaters in a clump waiting their turns patiently. 

Tobirama hadn’t expected to see Naruto, nor for the hockey player to storm past his cousin Mito on a direct course toward Sasuke. They are roommates, but surely if something was urgent he could have just called? Sasuke looks curious but not alarmed at the furious pace of the blond’s approach, so Tobirama relaxes. 

Naruto holds up a fan of envelopes sealed with purple and gold wax and waves them emphatically, “Saaaasukeeeee! There you are! You gotta tell me how you know the Canuck Zombie well enough that he thinks he can just roll up after practice and give me errands, Sasuke-teme. I’ve an Uzumaki, we’ve got pride you know! I can’t just hop to because an Immortal Priest says so!”

Sasuke covers her mouth but it’s clear that she’s laughing at him, not coughing, “Did you fight him? DID ANYONE GET DEAD? Should someone have died but you’re both too stubborn to give in to mere mortality???” she stops waving her arms and resumes her previous imitation of a demure Japanese lady, “Or did you make friends? Your woe is simply overwhelming me, Naruto, I can’t tell.”

“We agreed that this is a favor to you, not him.” Naruto hands over the envelopes.

“Oh, well that’s alright. We can negotiate payment later.”

“So who’s getting married?”

Sasuke smirks, sliding a nail under the wax of one envelope and flipping it open but only quickly scanning the contents, “No wedding, this is for a Party.”

“Oh no, you can’t date the Zombie! Sasuke No!” Naruto looks suitably horrified at the idea. Tobirama still wants to know who this Zombie person even is and how Sasuke knows him.

Sasuke blinks, theatrically weighs the pros and cons of correcting Naruto against letting him suffer, then speaks, “Kakuzu’s throwing the party, not Hidan. And I’ll date who I want if I can ever find the time.” Sasuke tucks the extra envelopes into the inner pocket of her coat, then turns to Tobirama, “So, are you busy on the evening of the 18th? We’ve been invited to a fundraising party for Rink Refurbishment and to support the local Junior Girls’ Hockey league. Should be pretty low key, and I think you’ll like some of the other people who are invited.”

Tobirama wishes for a pause button so he could have a moment to think. Because it’s hard to go from laughing at Naruto’s suffering to suddenly being on the spot himself, “Um.”

Sasuke gives him an out while also focusing on him with her too pretty dark eyes full of hope, so he’s not sure if it counts as kindness or cruelty, “I’d appreciate it if you came, but it’s not an obligation. Think about it?”

He nods, because thinking about it sounds fantastic. Or not thinking about it. That might be better. He doesn’t want to go to a party; that has been his default answer for a long, long time. Major event Galas are an exception because they can’t be avoided without rudeness that reflects poorly on his country. Private parties thrown to raise funds were entirely optional and out of his range of experience. But he hesitates to say so for some reason.

Something in his face must be off, reflecting his conflict, because Sasuke nods too. “No rush. I need to talk to Mito for a minute, okay?” She catches his hand to squeeze his fingers and waits for him to respond with a counter squeeze before she heads up to where Mito and the other singles ladies are.

Naruto is still standing there, so Tobirama asks, “Who is the Zombie? And Kakuzu?” before he can leave.

The flood of information he receives is full of old hockey family politics, hearsay, wild rumors about kidnappings, mob money, lawyer armies and increasingly improbable things that distract him from the initial question and the looming party entirely for nearly a quarter of an hour.

#####  *****

Mito is always easy to find when it’s a figure skating crowd. The Uzumaki red only stops being a distinctive identifier at hockey matches, but Hockey people very kindly give themselves color & number codes that don’t make any sense to Sasuke, but are at least consistent across multiple encounters. It’s delightful and part of why she’s never hesitated to meet Naruto’s teammates and makes time to attend his games when she’s in the area.

Kakuzu-san understood her request to see a picture of his hockey playing grand-nephew slash room mate before they met for dinner. He knows why. Because he asked, before. Hidan is hilarious, so she’s glad to have met him in person, and his accent is distinct. She prodded him into saying a few words in his native Belarussian so she could recognize him better. 

Sasuke has used variations on “If I don’t listen to you, how will I know who you are?” since she was eight and internalized that not everyone has so much trouble recognizing faces. Shisui-nii has it worse than her, at least she can learn a face if she works at it. Vocal recognition is just easier. People love to feel listened to, so focusing her attention on the person she wants to keep and encouraging them to speak long enough to pick up the particular timbre and cadence of their voice is enough to lock them in her memory, even if their faces slip into fog without enough repetition.

Kakuzu’s voice is rough from the damage done to his throat- his scar is distinctive and the colorful cravats he wears only draw attention to the part that peeks out rather than actually concealing it. But when she was fifteen and terrified and not sure how to react to her mother’s decision to overthrow Tajima-ojii to use the Family Influence to go after sexism in skating like it was an enemy that could be slain if you had the right kind of sword, Sasuke wanted Kakuzu to talk because he was secretly old and had seen enough of the world to understand bits of it. Like how to figurehead a ship of war and not lose sight of the bright shoreline of peace in the distance. How to actually break the bones of a man or woman who deserved it and not lose your lunch or your sanity. How to balance what you need for yourself against what everyone needs from you.

She’d shown him how to make the fancy knots used in qi pao dresses and sword tassels while they talked. His hands were big and scarred as his throat, but he handled the ribbons with deftness. Complexity under roughness, like fractals or the really good music that builds and builds upon itself until resolving into clarity, but never sacrifices the disparity and dissonances in the chords that support it. The world is complicated; a voice can be rough but soothing.

Or, as Kakuzu put it, when she asked, “People are shit sometimes, but if you hit them in the checkbook, with the law, and publicly shame them all at once, they usually notice one or the other and behave better so you don’t do it again.”

It’s a deeply strange sort of friendship to outsiders, but Sasuke is used to that.

People still act like Oro-san is going to eat them, when he’s only angry at institutional idiocy. Then again, maybe more people should be afraid.

She pulls her mind back to the present: surrounded by the not-quite strangers that are her new rink mates and the other local skaters, she needs to pay more attention and gather less wool- she thinks that's the phrase in English, anyway. She and Kakuzu worked out the party details already, with Hidan as their long suffering snacks go-fer. Now she needs to get a list of rink complaints for them to address with whatever money they manage to raise. 

Mito has most of the singles girls from their rink around her, and Sasuke tries to match as many names as she can to force her brain to do the work. Sakura, Brienne, Misty, Helen, San-san No… Sun-Sunny?- no her name can’t actually be Sunny, right? She’s sort of medium everything and it’s not clicking. Maybe Sunny willl say something and it’ll come to her.

Sasuke eases into the circle of conversation but it is not her fate to be ignored for long. Sakura turns to her and asks if her long program is ready for competition. Which, _rude._ Sasuke’s not asking if Sakura’s quad toe-loop is ready even though she knows it's not consistent enough to put in a program when her triple axel is still not fully rotated every time.

“It’s ready in the same way you can wear rough cut sapphires and they’re lovely, but they shine better with more polish,” Sasuke says and it’s true. Tsunade is a good choreographer and with both Oro-san and Old Chiyo chipping in unsolicited advice, both programs are complete. Not to the standards that anyone would like and not yet smooth, but there aren’t any gaps in the music where they would have to improvise either. It’s almost a shame, improvising is the best part of dance practice. But on the ice it would be a disaster.

Sakura seems on the back foot with her reply, “Oh, I didn’t realize you’d put together two programs so fast.”

“I’d heard it usually takes a long time to adapt to a new partner. I wish I was that flexible. How do you make it look so easy?” Maybe Sunny’s smile is all lips and no eyes, but Sasuke’s experience with the neurodivergent doesn’t automatically disqualify it from genuine…. It’s the slight flick of Maybe Sunny’s gaze down toward a pair of the Malta Boys that give her away. The terrible bros have been so very diligent in spreading old rumors and being little shits in other ways to everyone around them that Oro-san had to crush their clique like cutting up a diseased starfish and hoping the healthy arms would regenerate into actual human people.

She starts by giving Maybe Sunny an obvious once over; medium curly brown hair held back in a tail, plainly attractive oval face, hazel eyes, shirt clearly chosen to show off the more than ice skater standard bust size but a good color for her skin tone. Her jeans are tailored poorly, a show of wealth without the care to employ people who gave a damn about their profession. She’s probably between seventeen and nineteen, it’s hard to tell with some people.

“I’ve had the honor to work with some very smart people to help with the transition, both this time and in previous instances. So I am well armed with strategies and tactics,” Sasuke says in her best answering press questions tone, hoping that Maybe Sunny will take it as the rebuke it is, “I am happy to report that with luck and will, Tobirama and I will be able to compete this year, if not to the standards that my fans have come to expect. But with time, we will improve our coordination and scores.”

Maybe Sunny blinks at her, “Oh. Okay.”

Sasuke turns to Mito, “Mito-san, I’m helping a family friend host a fundraiser for the rink soon. Kakuzu-san is thinking that the junior girls hockey league will have games here once they get it going,” She gestures around at the building, “So I was hoping you would have some ideas for what needs fixing besides the ventilation fans?”

“Oh, I have some thoughts. I’m sure we all do,” Mito smiles around at the other girls and the tension of the moment before fades.

“Excellent,” Sasuke returns the smile.

Satisfied that she’d at least started the conversation and content to let it workshop without her interference, Sasuke sits back to listen. Perching on one of the bleacher seats and working her left ankle through a flexibility and strength exercise while she waits. Tunes back in for Maybe Sunny- real name sounds like Filly or Philly or Fillet, she refuses to put any thought into parsing that mess- arguing with Sakura over accepting funds raised by a mobster. _Oh, someone doesn’t know when to quit._

“Kakuzu-san is a banker and a generous friend, but you are not required to partake of improvements made by his fundraisers if it goes against your ethics.” Perhaps she needs to eat something for her blood sugar, that came out more salty than intended.

“Who are we to complain from where the money flows, so long as it flows, am I right ladies?” Suigetsu interrupts, half dropping half flinging himself onto the bench next to her. It should be painful but Suigetsu’s liquidity may be spinal as well as magical.

“Some of us care,” Maybe Sunny of Philadelphia sniffs.

“Didn’t bother you when it was old Thunderstep taking you out for hundred dollar sushi,” Suigetsu points out and effectively kills that conversation.

But something about his words rattles and then clicks in Sasuke’s mind. Thunderstep is Raiga’s twitter handle, and that would imply… “Oh, You’re Knifeshoes twentytwo.”

“At your service, Princess,” he gives her the most theatrically overdone leer that she cannot take him seriously in the least, “Any service you may require, I’ll be alllllll over it.”

“Can you dial it back a bit?”

“Yes I can, because I have self awareness and self control to go with respect for others,” he waves her a little salute with one hand and lounges backward on both elbows, the very picture of casual indolence.

“Great, I’m glad that Oro-san’s efforts haven’t been entirely wasted here.” Sasuke pulls herself up, “I’m going to grab myself a juice.”

She’s not terribly surprised when Suigetsu trails after her to help, but the vending machine gives up its prizes without any kicking or aqueous tampering today. She sips the tea-juice hybrid and listens to him complain about Kotetsu’s latest gossip scoop.

It can’t hurt to stir the pot a little, surely? She grins and pulls out the extra invitations to Kakuzu’s party, explaining who, what and when with a certain relish.

As she hoped, Suigetsu is more than happy to help spread the unofficial publicity, since her own official twitter account has a manager she has to go through before the prepared posts go live. Not that Hikaku is a tyrant or anything, but he worries about breaking the family mystique when Madara has already buried that corpse in a shallow grave marked with his backless gauzy dancer’s top.

It’s odd but nice how little she has to explain to Suigetsu about Kakuzu. It seems he knows about the whole situation with Jiraiya’s exile from official commentator to the fringes of online video ranting, the Curse mobs, and the ongoing fight between the two teams of lawyers over the existence of Jiraiya’s trust fund money. Instead he’s interested in what kind of party they have planned, and who they’re going to invite, and the food.

She might get a little too enthusiastic describing the food, because by the time they make it back across to the scheduling crowd, Suigetsu has a shiny new idea.

“Hey Tobirama, you still hate parties, right?”

Her partner pauses his discussion with Naruto long enough to eyebrow at Suigestu.

“So I’m volunteering to be your stunt double and go to this swanky party with our lovely Princess. I’ll save you from all the dancing and the free fancy food and scary people asking about toe picks,” the shit-eating grin on Suigetsu’s face is half teasing, half serious, “Shouldn’t be a hard sell so long as I wear something with sleeves, eh?”

Naruto motions from Suigetsu to her with another look of horror. Sasuke rolls her eyes at him. His concern about her love life is entirely new and unfounded; she’ll pin him down and get answers when they get home. This mental aside distracts her from whatever internal battle Tobirama might be having, because when she looks back up the eyebrow has turned into the increasingly familiar expression of ‘Challenge accepted, lets go’ that she loves to provoke from him.

“I’d hate to hear what answers you’d give for the toe picks question,” Tobirama says, holding out a hand to her despite holding Suigetsu’s gaze. She takes it and lets him draw her closer, because curiosity, drama, and enabler are in her blood. “But I doubt you could double these stunts, buddy,” she can _hear_ the smirk.

And it’s such a good cue that Sasuke manages to keep her juice balanced as she’s raised all the way up onto Tobira’s shoulder. Damn but the pure ease of these lifts is not getting old anytime soon. She adjusts her legs slightly both for better balance and theater but his grip on her juice free hand is steady. _Guess I live here now._ She resists the urge to giggle like a lunatic; the smile is too strong to repress and escapes onto her face.

Suigetsu’s jester persona asserts itself in an instant, “I couldn’t possibly hope to defeat you by force of arms: wits it shall be!” He squares up and juts his hip out aggressively, his shoulder bag swinging in a vaguely threatening arc with the heft of gear and textbooks.

“Shall I wait here while your second fetches a weapon for you, as you’ve clearly left yours in your other sack.”

“Opening with an insult to my fine sack, I should have expected you to aim low. You cannot rise to the challenge of a true master; you’re a hundred years too early for this battle, Snowflake.”

“Your sack is hardly noticeable, let alone fine,” Tobira’s snark is entirely older brother on a tear now, “But keeping your wits there explains so much.”

Sasuke can’t take it, “Enough, I want off this ride if you’re both really going to do the totally not sexual dick jokes thing.”

Suigetsu chugs half his water bottle and Tobirama clutches at her hand like she might disappear, both looking away from each other and her.

If Suigetsu killed the conversation about Kakuzu earlier, she just did a full soviet murder and erasure from history as Tobira and Suigetsu both silently agree to pretend like it didn’t happen at all. To the side, Naruto is suppressing his laugh with both hands clapped over his mouth.

She nods, satisfied, “Thank you for the offer, Suigetsu, but if you really want to go that bad, I have some extra invitations. Just play nice and maybe you’ll get one of your own.”

Suigetsu beams at her, then pretends to notice Naruto for the first time and greets him with his usual mix of razors and enthusiasm. Sasuke doesn’t rescue either of them: they’ll hit it off or they won’t, it’s not her business.

“Anyway, I’ll go to that party with you on the eighteenth,” Tobira says as he starts walking them toward Sakumo again. The crowd from before has thinned out, more a ring of circles now. Mito and Kurenai’s groups have mixed together to form a single larger loop, while the men have remained split into several smaller camps. Asuma and Kurenai’s circles overlap at the edges, and Kato-san has a group of very junior skaters at another rink that are just here to stare and get advice. Suigetsu and Naruto are rapidly accreting the loose guys to observe their bickering match. It’s much easier to read all that from her current perch.

“Thank you,” she smooths down some of his hair, for once in easy reach. “And don’t worry, it’s a party so I’ve got you.”


	10. Party Face On

“Does it really matter what I’m wearing?” Tobirama eyes the small stack of new dress shirts with trepidation.

Sasuke wonders if someone sucked all the joy out of new clothes for him when he was younger or if there’s some other issue. He’d claimed not to have any texture problems when Kita asked, but he may have convinced himself it wasn’t worth mentioning if he didn’t break out into hives or something. “It’s not the end of the world. Nothing about this is the end of anything, but I don’t want us to clash. We want to look... not matched but coordinated? Like partners. Because we haven’t had an actual competition yet and neither of us wants to talk about our former partners at any kind of length because that gets awkward. And pick whatever, I can work with any of these.”

That calms him enough to pick out one of the shirts, the nice powder blue, and run it through his fingers, “This is still too much for a ‘Just Because day’ present. And I still don’t believe that’s an actual thing.”

Sasuke could wave her phone with the weird holidays website at him, but she knows it’s the reflexive complaint of a present already accepted, “That’s nothing; I got Touka a whole husband including delivery from the airport.”

She gets to watch Tobira twitch and sort through several replies before settling on, “Her husband, or an upgrade?” It’s the hopeful tone that sells it as a joke.

“Hers, but with a residency upgrade. Family should get to be together if that’s what they want.” Sasuke watches as Tobirama trades the blue shirt for the rich plum and tries not to twitch from her vague amused cat smile. “Will you just pick one for tonight at least? I doubt any of your family is going to notice unless you make a point of looking uncomfortable.”

He ends up picking out one of the plain shirts. That’s fine, so long as he wears one of them so she can assure herself of the fit.

When Tobira comes back out with the crisp tailored linen layered over a fitted tank top in faded blue tucked into black jeans that actually fit and love his legs like they deserve…. Well, she’s glad to be lounging on the giant sectional and have an excuse to duck her head behind the back for a moment to breathe. Damn but that’s a good look. _ Oh noooooo. What have I done? _

She pokes her head above the edge of the couch in time to watch Tobirama finish rolling the second sleeve up and give the roll a rough crease to keep it from slipping. Not that it’s needed- she ordered those shirts using Kita’s measurements, and even rolled the sleeve fits like it was made for him because it was. Worn like this the shirt accents the best parts of his figure: the strength of his hands and arms, the breadth of his shoulders, the build and general firmness of his core. The warm off-white of the linen works well with his face and hair, not washing him out like some of the paler colors they’d tried on the color tests. Overall, he looks very, very good for just having thrown on a dress shirt and maybe running a comb through his hair.

“Do you have boots?” she asks before she can stop herself. Because this look deserves them, even if his ass doesn’t need the help. If he looks this good at future galas she’s going to have to guard him from that certain vintage of old lady that thinks that pinching cheeks isn’t reserved for faces.

Tobira nods to her like specific footwear is a reasonable request. He has to notice her using her phone to take a picture, but he doesn’t comment, just goes over to the linen closet and starts digging through plastic shoe boxes. She doesn’t question the storage practices in this apartment anymore.

Sasuke checks the time difference in her head and shoots a quick text to Haku for guidance on how to make Tobirama stop ruining her composure with the probably absentminded sexy arms.

Haku wastes no time in setting her on the true path. Because if she has to suffer then she should ideally get more shots and share.

She agrees. Not because she’s that much of a second hand exhibitionist, but because under all the flustered protests, Tobirama likes compliments on things he feels are his to claim. And the excellent way he occupies that outfit is all on him. She can deal with smirking cat Tobirama. It’s the moments where his nervous self-consciousness falls away that wreck her.

She sends a heartfelt thanks full of emoji to Haku and then broaches the topic of posting pictures with Tobira.

There’s a lot of ways she could take, “Where do you want me?” but she’s going to keep this from escalating even further at all costs. The goal was indulge a little eating the eye candy, not to try the sort of flirting that only pops into her head in English and never ever comes across the way she thinks it will.

So a few clicks and a silly joke later she’s got a few good pics, lets Tobirama choose the ones she posts with a wink emoji and bi-lingual comment about “new partner enjoying the dress shirts.”

Then they’re out the door to have dinner with his family and Touka’s husband ‘Aoba the Inquisitor.’ Sasuke’s actually looking forward to meeting him, despite Tobirama’s colorful complaints about his nosiness. Sasuke’s not afraid of one journalist at a family type dinner, especially not one that owes her and her army of lawyers a favor.

#####  *****

The fund-raising party isn’t as bad as he feared.

He picked out the new purple shirt to go with his charcoal suit, no tie.

Sasuke’s dress is made of some kind of kimono fabric, but it is not in any way a kimono. He doesn’t know enough of the technical terms to describe the pattern type beyond gorgeous: deep purple with vibrant patterns of flowers and petals in cascades and elegant curves. The skirt lies over flared layered petticoats, with a fitted bodice, a square neckline and tiny puff sleeves, plus a matching short jacket with wide sleeves. The silk and glass flowers in her hair appear old enough to be inherited, but with her short trimmed hair manage to look jaunty.

Hashirama and Mito are there, as are Minato Namikaze and Kushina Uzumaki, a dutifully rink representative version of Tsunade pretending she’s not there with Dan Kato, Suigetsu escorting a rather starstruck Sakura Haruno, Asuma and Kurenai and a few others he recognizes from rinks in the area so he has familiar faces to turn to if Sasuke gets dragged away.

Sasuke introduces him to Kakuzu and Hidan the Zombie like they are old friends, which he expects from the way she talked about Kakuzu when he asked. But then she proceeds to greet people she has clearly never met with almost that level of warmth and Tobirama has to reconsider a few assumptions. The smooth ease with which Sasuke moves through the dance of greetings and inquiries about their interest in the fundraising goals speaks of both practice and training; the carefully measured emotion and intense attention she gives to each person or pair that they approach. The genuine interest on display as she gently pries into their passions and listens with that expression that invites truth, like the refiner’s fire reaching out to smelt away the dross of petty conversation and lay claim to hearts. And once she’s made them feel like the most passionate and compassionate people in the city, she tells them about the matching passion of the skaters at the rink and the young girls playing hockey, and praises their generosity before moving on to her next victim.

Tobirama’s role in this is to be arm candy, answer questions when prompted, and help with the goodbyes when Sasuke gives him the cue that they’re done.

Yeah, he’s going to need some time to figure this out. Because he’s seen Tsunade put on a mask to deal with hostile media, but this is much more focused and personal. Like watching someone speed-run a friendship and then turn it to a fundraising pitch at the last moment, while giving the impression that the fund raising bit was the punchline they’d all signed up for. He wonders if these people thought they were making friends or if this level of attention from a minor celebrity was essentially what they were buying with their donations.

After the fifth such conversation he whispers that he needs a break and she aims them toward the buffet and lets him lead.

The food smells every bit as glorious as promised, and Tobirama feels not a bit of shame in loading his little plate in a heap. Sasuke’s been waylaid by Minato and Kushina, so he starts building a plate he thinks she’ll like, avoiding the overly sweet things in favor of the spicy and savory offerings, but not worrying about letting the sauces or foods touch as he would for Itama or Hashi.

The grin he gets when he hands it over is worth the effort and getting drawn into conversation with the very enthusiastic speed skater and his hockey playing wife. This is not like the others. These are Naruto’s parents and actual friends, not marks. Or whatever it is that the random rich people are to Sasuke.

Kushina takes pity on them and lets them go with an admonishment, “Eat! I don’t want to be the only one with energy for dancing later!”

That’s a real threat from an Uzumaki, so he leads Sasuke out to the courtyard, avoiding Hashi’s wave like he doesn’t see it. There’s fewer people out here just yet, and they can sit on the edge of a small fountain and eat while being able to spot any intruders coming.

Sasuke eyes their location and him for a moment but just digs into the food. He follows suit, trying to formulate his question without sounding like he’s accusing her of being a con artist of some kind. The sound of the fountain changes so gradually that he wouldn’t have noticed it except that the flow of water hasn’t changed at all. He stares at the water in concern for a moment and then notices Sasuke’s smirk and realization dawns. She’d caught on to what he was doing and is helping.

That feeling of helpless flailing falls over his mind again and he blurts out, “How do you the people?” and then slaps a hand over his own mouth in pure frustration.

Sasuke seems to understand, again, and the feeling of being simultaneously too light and moving through lead persists as she answers him, “I’m trained for this. Most of the art of conversation is listening. What’s said, what’s unsaid. Like the beats in music. I try to make people want to sing along.”

“Oh.” he’s never thought of conversation in those terms. As a duet or ensemble, rather than competing voices.

Her expression turns equal parts wan and wry as she spears another stuffed date with the tiny fork, “And it’s exhausting to keep up for hours, so afterwards we’re collapsing on the fortress couch in comfy clothes to listen to Gymnopédies and whatever else you’ve got in that giant cabinet and not saying anything.”

It sounds like the best sort of after party to Tobirama, and he says so. She’s chewing, but her eyes half close in a smile and he feels warm and calm again.

They finish eating in peace. Sasuke lets go of the water sounds illusion to focus on the food, about which she has many thoughts, but it’s a conversation like they might have in the kitchen rather than at a fancy party. It grounds him. The combination of raspberries and caviar that she insists that he try is better than anticipated, but her glee at alternating trickery, pleading, and threatening him into eating such odd combinations makes the ritual of reluctance and insistence a hard habit to break.

When they have to emerge from their bubble, Sasuke is much less directed in her socializing, drifting around the room without latching onto any of the conversations until a woman that’s vaguely familiar waves her down, “Miss Uchiha, a moment?”

Ivy Arrynshock is familiar because she’s a local entertainment journalist that interviewed Mito and Hashirama before. She’s there with some of her bosses and colleagues, but they got the details of the fundraier already from Kakuzu, thankfully. Miss Arrynshock wants to talk to Sasuke about music and rumors that she’s got some sort of deal going with Orochimaru. Sasuke is teasing about her strange relationship with “Oro-san” as ever, but expands on her latest musical exploits. Apparently transforming their long program piece wasn’t the only bit of genre smashing she’d done this year, as she admits to having made a new ‘taiko heavy’ arrangement of Master of Puppets for Kankuro and Karasu, an ice dancing pair from Australia as a ‘welcome to senior level’ gift.

One of the co-worked is a sound engineer and Sasuke gets distracted talking to him, leaving Tobirama to face Miss Aryynshock’s scrutiny on his own. “So, how do you feel about your chances this season?”

“We’ll do our best to give everyone a good show,” He says, knowing it’s bland and inoffensive and not worth printing.

The reporter presses, as they all do, “This must be a difficult adjustment. You’ve skated with your old partner, your cousin, for a decade. But with just a few months of practice you’re going to try competing with someone so different. You must have some feelings about it.”

He does, but most of his feelings aren’t things he wants to share with a stranger, let alone the public in general. But stonewalling won’t make the inquisition stop, only convince her that there’s something worth digging for. So he lets his face soften, “Actually it’s been great. Sasuke’s a much better cook than Touka, so I’m not stuck making all the food for off the ice meetings.”

That does the trick; the acquisitive look is still there, but aimed in a direction he’s comfortable with. “So you eat together as a way to bond?”

“Building a partnership can’t just be on the ice if you want it to work,” Tobirama quotes Tsunade, but he knows it to be true, “It’s about becoming a team. Making something together that’s more than just checking off a list of elements.”

“Oh?”

Tobirama smirks just a little, “Two cooks, one kitchen. Fire rather than ice and onions rather than judges. It’s good training to pay attention and communicate. And then we get to eat the results.”

From the gleam in her eyes, that might end up getting quoted. Damn it.

As if summoned by his distress, a moment later Hashi plows into the group like an ice breaker into an ice pack, cheerful greetings and sincere apologies for stealing Tobi falling in equal measure. Sasuke tilts her head in acceptance so Tobirama follows his brother with a wave of farewell to the television people.

Hashi’s crisis is almost entirely manufactured to get Tobirama away from the dread reporters, but he does get to spend the next while on the fringes of a group discussing the proposed expansion of the local women’s hockey program. Kushina and Hidan the Zombie feed on each other’s enthusiasm despite – as Tobirama understands it- being from opposing dynasties in the great hockey war.

He’s still there when Kakuzu and his entourage approach, with Sasuke and a supplemented media team in tow: they have a photographer with them now. Tobirama can feel his doom looming even as the banker in his pale gray suit and silk cravat works his way around the group to him, exchanging the smallest possible greetings with the people who insist on it. “Ah, Tobirama, if you would be so kind. There are some people who are eager to see why Sasuke’s decided to move to this side of the wide ocean, and while we don’t have near enough ice in the drinks for jumps or spins, I thought perhaps you could come do a little lift or something?”

Sasuke’s wound her way through the crowd to his elbow and when he hesitates she whispers- or at least he hears her voice in his ears, it could be her magic set so small that only he can hear it, since he can’t see her mouth moving- “I don’t see your stunt double anywhere, so do you want to earn the title Best Arms in Skating or what?” If it’s an illusion, she’s recreated her taunting tone perfectly.

Tobirama can see Suigetsu just fine, but he is a ways back in the crowd. A better vantage would help Sasuke. He smirks and hums a bit of her version of Shut Up and holds out his hand, hoping she gets which entrance he intends. She grins back and they do the bit of footwork and dancer’s spin that leads into the twist but instead of throwing her he lifts her onto his shoulder, where she can perch and pose. He remembers the cameras at the last moment and pulls his face into a proper performance smile rather than the smirk. He’s not sure if he managed before the first flash, but they stay in place for a solid ten seconds before the camera woman waves that she’s done and he spins Sasuke back to the ground with a whirl of her skirts.

Sasuke beams at him and doesn’t let go of his hands even as she turns to their host, “Kakuzu-san, do you mind if I change the music? I want to dance something that isn’t just shaking in place.”

Tobirama’s doom arrives in the form of a deceptively preserved octogenarian smirking and saying, “Go ahead, Princess.”

He could bow out. But then he’d have to watch Sasuke dance with the demon banker. And the stunt double clown. And from the smirk he’s leveling over his phone, the Zombie as well. Hashi would notice and never let him hear the end of it.

So when Sasuke looks up at him and says, “Dance with me, Tobira?” He offers his arm and follows her toward the area set aside as a dance floor. He’s not even surprised when she digs out her phone, taps a few commands and the speakers switch to a newly familiar song featuring brassy horns, drums, and a pulsing beat.

They take the floor and don’t speak to anyone else until it’s time to go.


	11. Media Medley

> #####  **#should you lick?**
> 
> Twitter Screen Shot: twitter: are figure skaters supposed to look lickable? asking for science. [attached is a waist-up photo of Tobirama Senju in the new blue-and-gold plunge shirt.]
> 
> We’re not a figure skating blog, so we reached out to @DragonPrincess to help us make this list in the grand tradition of Should You Lick the Science?
> 
> **Should You Lick the Skater?**
> 
> Please note that Consent is sexy and very important, so surprise licking is right out! Now, on to the show.
> 
> We begin with Mr Plunge, Tobirama Senju. Recently rated as possessing the Best Arms in Figure Skating by @ThirstyForIce and very easy on the eyes even before his costuming was taken over by the wondrous Toyotama Kita. Not currently romantically attached as far as anyone can cofirm. Not Ever romantically attached as far as anyone knows, so your odds here are as good or as bad as anyone's, presumably.  
>  The Caveat: Skittish, Recently became partners with an overprotective Uchiha, see attached resume of curb-stomping attributed to Sasuke Uchiha, proceed with caution
> 
> Madara Uchiha, a perrenial favorite for the thirsty ice watchers thanks to the many wonderous costumes over the years [Picture of the Fantastic Backless Gauzy dancer outfit we all loved]  
>  Our Caveat: flammable and incendiary. Another one with not one single romantic interest on record, so would probably look at you funny and Ruin The Mood.

_ Tobirama begins to skim, because there is only so much his brain can take _

> Hashirama's caveat is: engaged to an Uzumaki, who will probably shank you from behind. Do Not.
> 
> Kotetsu and Izumo: absolutely. go for it. You might even get a threesome if you ask them both at the same time. 

_ Tobirama would agree, except he’s sure even thinking the thought would summon them. _

> Sakumo Hatake [Pics with puppy] Our conclusion is that you should Lick, especially if you are a puppy, because this man clearly needs all the love. also a DILL- Dad we'd Like to Lick
> 
> Gai: Vintage. would give you your very own rainbow. Those abs. Go For It. very supportive of the LGBT community so also an equal-opportunity target.
> 
> Orochimaru: do you dare? Does Anyone Dare? We Don't. We suggest you don't either.  
>  InquiringCowOfScience: Orochimaru is the figure skating version of 'Science Licks You?  
>  DragonPrincess: yes, that’s exactly it
> 
> [Click to read more …]

Tobirama sighs and closes the web browser tab, “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Itama.”

“Apologize maybe? This is worse than when Hashi was dressed up as a stick of cinnamon gum for people to sniff on bus stops.” His younger brother throws himself down on Tobirama’s bed with more force than grace. “Two girls at school asked if I could get them pictures and if you wax. I don’t want to get asked that sort of question about my big brothers!”

“I’m not going to apologize for what other people do.”

Itama whines wordlessly at the ceiling. Tobirama remembers being seventeen and feeling like Hashirama was the most embarrassing thing in the world, so he has some sympathy. On the other hand, Hashi never apologized for any of it, and there are so many more actual offenses on his list than getting noticed by thirsty fans.

“Did you really come over just to complain about this?”

Itama sits up, looking a little guilty. “Well, no. I was hoping you could do me a favor?”

“So it comes out.”

Itama widens his eyes as far as they’ll go, but he’s still more cat than puppy. “It’s for school. We’re supposed to interview someone in the line of work that we want to enter.”

Tobirama blinks, “You hate ice skating and public performance.”

“Yeah I know. But your partner does arrangements and remixes and covers, which is where I’d be starting anyway.” He motions at the air like a conductor, “And does her own production work. None of that is live performance. Do you think famous Sasuke would be willing to do a school interview?”

“Well, if you stick around you can ask her, we’re making Good Luck Oden tonight.”

“Oh, okay. Is that baked? Will it be edible?”

“It’s a sort of stew, ingrate.” Tobirama grabs a stuffed cactus that’s managed to find it’s way from Hashi’s room to his and lobs it at Itama’s head.

#####  *****

“So I talked to Mito about feeling jealous of how much attention Tobi’s been getting since Sasuke showed up -did you see those magazine pictures from the party last week, Madara? They looked great but that article had three pictures of them and one of Kakuzu and Kushina and the rest of us barely got a mention. Anyway, Mito said that it wasn’t really about Tobi but about me. I said of course it is because it’s my feelings and not anything he did, but she said it was about me and media attention, and I don’t understand what she means. But you would. Understand. And maybe you would be able to dissect it…” Hashirama trails off, wondering if he’s making any sense to his friend or not. “Madara?”

“I saw the pictures, Aunt Mikoto is very happy at how well Sasuke looks in them. She said something about getting a print for her office,” Madara’s voice shifts as he puts the phone on speaker in a small room, “As for the rest of it, tell me a bit more about how you’re feeling and so I can tell how much I agree with Mito and where I need to argue.”

Hashirama’s so glad that rivalry doesn’t exclude being friends. He talks about the complicated knot of feelings that he’s been trying to strangle; about the reporters suddenly hounding his little brother, the surge of attention about costumes and supposed partner theft and this party. The party was the worst because he was right there and nobody seemed to care very much.

Madara listens through it all, making just enough noise to prove he’s listening without interrupting or erupting like he used to do when they were younger. When Hashirama winds down he says, “There’s a few things you aren’t considering, and they’re both secondary to your real problem but I’ll address them first to get them out of the way. The first is that my cousin is a novelty for your local press. The second is that she and your brother make a very pretty picture. Both of which are things that sell.”

Hashirama frowns at the wall and sighs loud enough for Madara to hear over the phone, “So Tobi and Touka didn’t make a pretty enough picture?”

“Not the sort gossip reporters can spin as love at first sight.”

“Oh!”

“It’s a juicier story for them to sell than reality. Talent and Legacy and Fate are more interesting than hard work; so expect the ‘romance’ to steal their credit when competition starts. No one will want to talk about their intense course in trust building in those terms, it’s too clinical. But that’s not my point, Hashirama.” Madara drops something on the other side of the connection with a soft thump, and then a meow.

“Do you have a cat?” Hashirama perks up.

“Yes, it’s for research. As I was saying,” Madara pushes past his question, “The Media are about selling stories, and they know what sells. This isn’t about you or Tobirama or Sasuke for them, it’s about money. When you and I are pushing each other to set new records every other competition: that’s a story that sells. When one of us is injured and the other is unopposed for months? Boring, no story, they move on to someone else.”

That stings, but it also matches what Hashirama has seen. He doesn’t want it to be true, so it probably is. Life had a way of doing that to him with the thorny issues. “So they don’t care what the story is?”

“Oh, some of them like certain kinds of stories best, but that’s a personal preference. Taken as a mass, and you should take them as a mass, Hashi; it’s about the money. They are selling you, me, and all of us. We're a high value, low effort product for them, so they’ll keep coming back until there’s nothing left,” Madara snorts, but it’s a bitter sound. “A wise man once wrote ‘Always remember that the crowd that applauds your coronation is the same crowd that will applaud your beheading. People like a show.’ and Mister Pratchett was right.”

“Oh.” Hashirama’s not sure how to respond, and Madara doesn’t say anything for a minute either.

His phone beeps and he checks to see an email from Madara. When he opens it on the computer so he doesn’t have to drop the call, he grins at the picture of Madara looking harassed by the orange striped tabby sitting on his shoulder and enthusiastically rubbing its chin on his head, shoving his hair into even further disarray than usual.

“Thanks, that’s a great picture.”

“I know you have a thing for redheads.”

It’s Hashirama’s turn to snort. “So what do I do?”

“About?”

“It’s not just the ads that are selling us.”

“The ads pay you, which is why you go along with them within the contracts you agree to. The rest aren’t, so you allow it only so long as they don’t cross the line.”

“Cross the line?” Hashirama stares at the cat rubbing itself all over Madara and remembers Itama’s complaints in the car about licking.

“The Senju are on our media watch radar now that Sasuke’s skating with your brother, so you’ll know if someone crosses a line,” Madara says, dry as tinder before the match, “because there will be lawyers.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Easy to recognize the signs.”

“I sense there’s something else. What is it, Hashi?”

“There was something about licking? Itama was concerned about my virtue, even though Tobi’s new costume started it. And you were on the list too.”

“Oh, for that sort of thing there’s blacklists and mail forwarding,” he can hear Madara shifting, settling in to explain. “Fans can get a little odd, but most of them never intend for us to see that. For the ones that do-”

#####  *****

Itama was expecting something a little more impressive for a music room set up than a pair of sound boards with a bulky laptop covered in stickers, a box speaker doubling as a table extender, and a single very expensive looking mic. She must make it work if this is where she did that big band cover.

He expects some sort of extended introduction, but when Sasuke ensconces herself in the tech’s chair and directs him to the seat next to her, she doesn’t start by explaining anything. She hands him a pair of headphones and then brings up a project in progress and starts working on it.

It’s upbeat and bubbly tubular bells in a simple seven note melodic line, but the chording does some interesting things, growing more complex and then shifting the entire piece into a minor mode around the sixty second mark, carrying the melody entirely on the chords for a cycle before it dissolves, dropping notes from the chords until the melody has reversed on itself and ends with a simple restatement of the new line.

Itama grins. This is the stuff.

Then Sasuke magnifies the file name ‘COMM245 12.3.2 Jingle Rewrite’ and he can feel his face falling. The smile she turns on him is more than a little demonic, “So you want to be a commercial musician? I hope you like jingles.”

“What?”

“Professor Izaki spent our first lecture hammering home that making a living at music is terribly unglamorous. You’re getting the abridged version: commercial means commercials!”she taps a key on her synth and the box speaker plays a generic scare chord. “I have to say that is a much more straightforward pun in English, almost too easy.”

“Not ads,” Itama slumps as far as the chair will allow, “It’s bad enough that Hashi is forever showing up on billboards pimping breath mints. Can’t I just work in movies?”

Sasuke huffs, “If you can get a symphony position. A lot of movie scores are performed by the big philharmonics. But that job also includes bi-weekly live performances for months at a time. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you’re in a mass of dozens of identically dressed people?”

He hides his face. That sounds horrifying.

Sasuke makes a sound of affirmation, “So if you want to stay firmly in the recording studio you’ll be doing smaller projects, like ads. And there are worse things than Hashirama’s ads, believe me.”

“No, there’s nothing worse. Have you seen them?”

That earns him a peal of laughter loud enough to echo off the big window in the living room, “Oh, you have no idea, do you? Let me show you the truth of which you have been blissfully ignorant.” She leans over to the laptop and starts typing.

Sasuke starts by playing the Japanese version of the Pokemon Olympics spots, singing along with the video as her tiny double leaps from green screen to green screen in short cuts that are put together in varying lengths, doing different sports with different animated monsters but always finishing - of course- by watching the Olympics with Snorlax on the sponsoring channel.

But this is just to lull him into a false sense of ease and normalcy.

What follows can only be described as a quick and harrowing dive into the kaleidoscopic hell that is Japanese advertising. There is no shame, no pride, no genuine emotion; only mania compressed and then allowed to spring back into the shape of dance-beat ear worms and haunting visuals of Gliding and Spinning.

And then she kills him more dead by queuing up Hashi’s worst breath mint commercial. It’s so bland and inoffensive by comparison she doesn’t have to say it.

“I take it all back,” Itama says, covering his head with his arms to make it stop.

It stops.

Sasuke pulls her legs up under her with a sense of triumph, but doesn’t say anything else until he pulls out his actual interview notes, but he moves past the first several to one he feels is more interesting. “What advice would you give to someone interested in this field that you think would surprise them or contradict their expectations the most?”

She nods, considers then begins speaking in a clear but slow rolling voice, “Like I said, Commercial means commercials. Whoever wrote the little ‘badda ba ba ba’ for Mcdees? Brilliant! Stupidly catchy! Utterly unsung hero of their advertising team. You will aspire to that level of short and memorable and rarely achieve it,” she pauses for a breath, “Music is all over but most of it is tiny and has tiny budgets because art almost never has the budget it needs. And I say this as a rich girl who has commissioned music: the bid was far less expensive than it ought to have been and when I paid what I thought it was worth I made the composer cry over the phone because bonuses are so rare.

“You’ll dream of doing movies, but most of the time you’ll be doing television, radio and ads. I mean, video game music is a growing field, but to break into that you have to know indie gamers and be in-budget. Otherwise they do their own. Even if you don’t like performing in public, it will do you good to get used to networking because people can’t give you jobs if they don’t know you exist and are looking for work. If that’s uncomfortable for you, you’ll need an agent or to find a regular gig to keep yourself fed, like a television studio that does in-house music work.”

Itama realizes that he’s just been staring instead of writing anything down, “Okay, taking notes now.”

“You were supposed to be taking notes from the beginning,” Sasuke conspicuously taps the pause button on the voice recording running behind her, “Okay, maybe gloss the stuff where I'm doing camel spins in a Idol outfit on a fake turntable if you want to enjoy the next few dinners I have a hand in?”

Itama nods vigorously, “I’m preparing the brain bleach as we speak.”

“Excellent, you learn quickly.”

#####  *****

Kotetsu has a copy of the weekend magazine and a leer. This bodes ill for a productive weights session. Tobirama eyes him as he puts down his bag and starts wrapping his hands, waiting for the inevitable.

“The media and fans have finally noticed how very tasty you are, Tobirama, congratulations!” Kotetsu grins evilly, “It was inevitable if you ever got a designer not intent on making Touka suffer the eyes of objectification alone. So, has anyone tried to send you nudes or marriage proposals yet?”

He can feel his face heating up even as a sense of slight unreality settles over this entire encounter, “No, but I haven’t checked my mail today.”

“See, that’s your first mistake. Findable address,” Izumo says from the leg press, “You don’t want random people to know where you live, man.”

“Or to read the creepy mail some fans send,” Kotetsu says, more serious now, “Mental scars, and for what? Cursed underwear that doesn’t even fit.”

“Please, I’m not anything like that well known,” Tobirama grumbles, moving over to open space at the side of the weight room to do the basic stretches that preceded all of these workouts.

“You should take it more seriously,” Sakumo interjects from where he’s sorting the free weights. “I used to get the most inappropriate letters, and I was married.”

“Privacy is precious,” Izumo says as he finishes his set and curls into a sit up to look at him, “You know this by instinct, but you’ll learn a whole new level.”

“Now that you have taken up with the Uchiha,” Kotetsu finishes the thought with an ominous cackle.

Sakumo rolls his eyes, “I’m sure your partner can help with setting up mail sorting and to make your address vanish from the easily accssible parts of the internet, that sort doesn’t stay sane unless they hold their privacy close.” He comes over to help Kotetsu with his back leg stretch and considers, “Well, she’ll set it up with whoever’s doing it for her locally.”

Tobirama thinks back to that first afternoon eating sandwiches with Sasuke, “She did say something about mail forwarding, but it was one item on a long list for moving here.”

“Just ask, it can’t hurt. And not asking might.”

Tobirama nods. Sakumo has seldom steered him wrong in the past. “Anything else?”

The advice isn’t all immediately applicable, and he’s still not sure about the murder walk, but he’ll give it a try. This is his life until Touka comes back from having her baby.

#####  *****

Sasuke pauses her laughing fit long enough to hold out her phone to show a picture of Madara looking woeful but determined, “How would you rate this face?”

Tobirama considers, “Recently realized he’s trapped in a comedy film with 70 minutes left in the runtime.”

She flicks to the next picture, which is a closer view of more intense woe.

“Doomed, utterly doomed.”

Sasuke laughs harder and explains, “My brother sent them. ‘Cousin Madara lost a bet, so I gets to pick this year’s gala costume,’” she had to stop and get her giggles under control again, pointing to the second picture, “Cat boy.”

Tobirama’s brain flashes to the background picture on Hashirama’s computer, of Madara and the cat. He cackles.

Tsunade will eventually find them and drag them back to the ice to finish practice, but not before they’ve laughed themselves out.


End file.
